Schism
by geeves
Summary: The demon is back....
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

The Emergency room is busy tonight, like every other night of the week… the year… always. Patients are sitting, standing, lying on gurneys waiting for treatment. Doctors, nurses and hospital staff are bustling around at an unearthly pace trying desperately just to keep up with the tide of sick and injured.

A sturdy looking man sits on the edge of a hospital bed in an examining room of the ER, gripping the mattress so hard his knuckles are white from the strain. It's not just the hair…or the eyes… it's everything about him that feels _dark_.

Deep, intense eyes shift slowly from side to side as he takes everything in…sees every movement…accounts for every person.

The nurse is speaking to him but he acts as if she's not even there. She's concerned about him. Asking him questions. Trying to get a fix on what's wrong… because something _is_ most definitely _wrong_. So wrong that she decides to consult the doctor on this one. They may need to call psych to figure this guy out.

"Excuse me. Doctor, if you have a moment?"

"A moment, what's the crisis?"

"More of a situation: A gentleman in examining room three"

"What's the problem?"

"That _is_ the problem. We're not sure."

"You got the chart?"

"Right here"

"Hmm, not much here is there?"

"No doctor"

"Nothing on his physical turned up. Not sure about this one. Mmm, vital's are stable

Name?"

"No sir. He's not talking. Just sits there. Looking at…well, everything."

"Someone drop him off? Maybe we can speak to them. Let's get some background on this guy."

"He just walked in. Alone. No Id, Nothing and he won't speak to anyone

"Well then let's say hello"

"Good morning, I'm Doctor Johnson. How are you today?"

The man doesn't answer, just looks right through him.

"How are you today?" The doctor tries again. Still he gets nothing. Well, not exactly nothing. Now the man is making eye contact… staring him down. Burning a hole that felt like it went straight through his soul.

"Look son you're in a safe place. We want to help you, whatever way we can but we need to talk to you. We can't help you otherwise. Now: what's happened? Tell me everything."

Finally the man speaks, voice deep. Unearthly. Evil. "You sure you want to know?"

"Absolutely. It's the only way we can help."

John Winchesters' eyes flash bright yellow as the demon within lets himself be known. The doctor wants to turn and run but he can't. Something is holding him there, frozen. Fear creeps slowly up his spine like fingers walking their way creepily up his body. Just the sight of the toothy wolfish grin was enough to make the doctors' skin crawl.

"Alright then. Let me tell you a little story… about a family and how they have managed to phenomenally fuck with my plans… and about how I am now currently fucking with them and they don't even know it yet… but they will. And that's why I'm here. Y'see this is _my_ time. My reckoning." (_The doc hears the distinct sound of a flatline and a code red being called. He stares at the demon in horror_)

"My family is here, and we're here to stay. There's only one thing standing in my way. Well, three if you want to get real technical." (_Another flatline, and another until soon the shrill sound of death announced by machine is all that can be heard. That and the evil voice coming from the dark, disturbed man before him_)

"One of those things is Daddy Winchester here. He's been kind enough to lend me use of his meat suit for a little while. Traded it for a life he desperately wanted to save. The other two are his sons. That lovely Sam and all his power… and his brother Dean who has been a _pain in my ass_ since day one."

(_The Emergency ward is in chaos. Hospital staff are running around frantically trying to save critical patients who were stable just a moment ago and were now suddenly dying right before their eyes._)

"Now, I'll bet you're wondering to yourself doc… how do _I_ fit into this little story. What kind of role could I _possibly _have to play in all this? Well I'll tell you a little secret. It's not _you_ I'm after. It's not this emergency room…or this hospital. What I'm going to do to you guys... Nothing personal. I just need a way to draw the boys out. It's hunting season, and I'm hunting Winchesters! You guys…you guys are going to be the _bait_."

Suddenly the entire hospital goes quiet as if time itself has stopped. All eyes are on the doctor as he levitates a good three feet above the ground. John Winchester is smiling pure evil. "Brace yourself Doc, 'cause this is _really_ going to hurt." The smile disappears and the entire population of the Emergency ward watches in horror as the doctor soars through the air and is slammed against a wall, around the nurses station, through the computer until he finally is smashed straight through the glass door of a trauma room. He is broken, bloody and very obviously dead.

That's when panic takes over, but the demon is ready for it. Knows what he is doing. Hell, he's done this so many times before that he can pretty much predict the reaction of the masses.

Patients, the ones who are mobile, are pushing, pulling and shoving each other to get to the doors. Looking for a way out. The doors won't budge though. They're trapped. Hospital staff is trying to save patients… from death yes, but not with the usual machines and medication. They're trying to find a way out, an escape. It's too late for that now. They're all dead. They just don't know it yet.

The demon enjoys watching the staff, who normally suffer from god complexes from saving lives every day, stumbling around helpless and panicked. Unable to help those they would normally be saving. Unable to even help themselves. Oh, he was going to have _fun _with this!

He feeds off of their panic, their fear. Feels his power grow…become stronger as the mere mortals become desperate… some clawing at the exits still trying to get out. Others grasping for anything that they can find to defend themselves with.

The nurse who had spoken with the good doctor is on the phone with Security. The demon just laughs. As if a couple of piddly security guards could possibly do _anything_ for these disposable vessels. Against _him_? Ridiculous. They don't stand a chance. The thought only makes him laugh harder, the sound so chilling that it actually produces whimpering and screaming in those close enough to hear it.

Alright, enough messing with their heads. Time to _play_!

Live bodies on gurneys and hospital beds begin to levitate initiating screams from all over the ward. Fire traces lines on the drywall, burning in the shapes of satanic symbols everywhere. Oxygen tanks explode, one after the other. People are running around like rats, trapped in a cage. There is so much activity, so much to fear, so much to run from that no one even notices the twin shadows slowly creeping out of the air ducts and into the fray. The demon has friends… and they want to play too. But first they need bodies.

The nurse is the first victim. She doesn't even know it's happened. Just suddenly freezes mid-sentence with the security guard she'd been yelling at to get someone down there _please!_ Clear green eyes turn pitch black, face suddenly expressionless and her panic is gone. Replaced with unnatural calm. "Never mind Jack. Guess I was overreacting. We've got a handle on things here." She doesn't even bother to hang up the phone, just lets the receiver drop wherever it may and joins in the fun.

Across the room, a patient with a limp and an arm in a sling suffers the same fate. His eyes go wide and black as the shadow instills itself in him. He pulls his arm out of its sling and flexes fingers that had until now been stiff and unusable. This one smiles then grabs the person closest to him by the throat with his now healed hand and tosses them as hard as he can against the nearest wall. There is a large blood stain where the body hit and it trails all the way down to where it now lies prostrate and lifeless on the floor.

Minutes pass, maybe a dozen or so. Twenty at the most. To those that manage to stay alive long enough it feels like hours… days… years. Then they are dead as well and the only ones left standing are John Winchester, the nurse and the patient. One last look around from three sets of disturbingly dark eyes until finally they are satisfied that their hearts are the only ones left beating.

"What do you think kids. Will they be able to tell it was us?" the demon asks his companions. They don't answer with words, just nod and smile evilly. Oh they'd be able to tell alright. It might take them a day or two to figure out _which_ demon had created this mess… but they _will _figure it out. And when they do they will come looking for him… he is _so_ looking forward to reuniting the Winchester boys with their dearly departed daddy. He can hardly wait.

"Alright kids. Time to go. Leave your toys here though. You can pick up couple of new ones on the way out." The boys'll need a little shove in the right direction. He wants them sooner rather than later. Eye witnesses are just the thing…

The only remaining live people drop unconscious to the floor as the shadows come rushing out of their bodies.

Twin shadows drift over the walls, following a very possessed John Winchester as he leaves the hospital looking for all the world as if nothing has happened. Well, except for the blood and gore all over his clothes, hair and face.

His time was _NOW_. The sooner he got the Winchesters out of the way the better.


	2. Chapter 2

Eric Kripke is battering his fists on a run of the mill appartment door in big-city Canada. "Open the damn door! I know they're in there... I saw the Impala in the parking lot for God's sake. Come on now, we need the boys to shoot the show..." "Sam and Dean? Who're they? Never heard of 'em!" A woman's voice calls out to him from somewhere behind the door. Eric can hear them laughing of course, and is none too pleased. "Come on guys, the jig is up... time to go back to Vancouver. Unless of course you both would like to explain to all the fangirls why the show got cancelled..." Oh, he knows what he's doing all right. The door quickly opens.to reveal a young woman and two very familiar hunters. "All right, fine... you can have them back... but I'm keeping the car, okay?" Taking the boys away from her was bad enough... but taking the car too? It was just inhumane. Eric just held his hand out, palm up, expectantly. "You are the worst kind of cruel, you know that?" she accused as she placed the keys in his outstretched hand. It was just too darned bad that the Winchesters, the Impala and the whole Supernatural show were all his...

Sorry, did I just say all that out loud? lol I know, it's not your average, run-of-the-mill disclaimer... Forgive me, it's extremely late here and I got a little carried away ; D (Just kidding Mr. Kripke... I would never dream of taking the boys or the car away. They've just made a habit of taking little joy rides through my imagination is all... hope that's okay...lol) Right, like Eric Kripke would read my stuff. LOL. Wouldn't _that_ be awesome? Incidentally... should the man ever pop in... and need another writer for the show... hint, hint... wink, wink... nudge, nudge...

Oh, there she goes again... dreaming in technicolor... Quick! Post the next chapter before she writes another paragraph already!

_Sorry about the above guys... I realize it probably makes me seem a great big weirdo... Blame it on my silly sense of humor teehee. (I am sooo going to regret including all this in the morning) Enjoy chapter two... it's a little less creepy than the first._**

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**Chapter Two**

It was the same old diner. The same old booths covered in vinyl with little rips and tears on the seats from wear and age. The same old greasy food. Even the waitresses were all pretty much the same. Middle aged and worn out around the edges but with the most beautiful, heartfelt smiles. There was always a little diner like this, no matter where they went.

Dean used to love this part of the life. How no matter where he went there was always something familiar to come back to at the end of the day. Recently though, even that small comfort hadn't been comforting at all. Ever since his Dad… well, he didn't want to think about that right now. He didn't want to think about anything but hunting.

Everything else…well everything else made him think about his Dad and that just plain hurt. Quite frankly he just didn't want to deal with it. There were more important things to do right now. Things to hunt, a demon to find and destroy, Sammy to protect. He didn't have time to waste on touchy-feely chic flick crap that might (Ech, God forbid!) involve tears, self pity and loathing.

"Okay, I think I found something." Sam stated excitedly from behind the laptop he'd been glued to for the better part of the last hour. It had been a couple of days since the whole zombie thing in Greenville and quite frankly they were both getting restless.

"Oh _Thank God_! What did you find?" An angry spirit, a haunted something-or-other… hell he'd take another wendigo at this point. Anything to have something to do.

"I'm not really sure what did it, but it's definitely right up our alley. Take a look."

Sammy turned the laptop around so Dean could see what he'd found. The picture displayed there was gruesome even by their standards. An ER littered with dead bloody bodies, mangled machinery and satanic symbols burnt into every visible surface.

"Is this for real?"

Dean was hard to shock… but this…he'd never seen anything like it before.

"Oh it's for real alright. The papers are calling it a freak accident with the oxygen tanks. It's weak, but I guess they have to explain it somehow."

"No kidding. Oxygen tanks exploding… so what are they saying about the symbols?"

"They're not. It's being chalked up to coincidence."

"Right. 'Cause when oxygen tanks explode, that kind of thing always happens."

Dean was pure sarcasm. He never really did get how people could have concrete evidence of the supernatural right in front of them like that and still believe that it didn't exist. "Any survivors?"

"Just two. A nurse and a patient. They're, uh, both in the psych ward. Suffering from post-traumatic stress syndrome or something."

"Well, they definitely saw something."

"Yeah. So, what do you think?"

That Sam even had to ask was surprising.

"I think we should pay the bill and hit the road Sammy. We can be there in a couple of hours. I want to get a look at that ER before they start cleaning it up."

Dean answered, closing the laptop and flagging down the waitress.

The sooner they got going the better. They had asphalt to burn, research to do, something to hunt… and to kill.

John comes to in a dark motel room. The curtains are drawn and the lights are off. What little light does filter through the thick, heavy material does very little to help him see. He's sitting upright in a chair with his hands resting lightly on his knees. Where the hell am I? How did I get here?

He's tired… exhausted actually and sore. Feels like he should have checked himself into a hospital rather than a motel. Funny, there's something about hospitals… something that he should be able to remember… isn't there?

There's something on his clothes, his face, in his hair. It's wet and sticky and feels disgusting. He needs a shower and a change of clothes. His bag… where did he put his bag? There's a problem because it's not in the room. At least not that he can see. Did he leave it in the truck? Better check the bathroom first. He probably just left it in there. Wish he could figure out why he feels so strange…

But the bathroom is empty. Empty except for a couple of courtesy towels and a bar of soap. John is standing in the middle of it trying to figure out what the hell was going on that he can't remember _anything_ of the last few days. He sees the mirror out of the corner of his eye. Catches a quick glimpse of his reflection… but it takes a moment for him to realize what is he sees.

When it finally sinks in through the haze that has taken over his mind he does a double take. Is that…? Oh God, I'm covered in _blood_. What the hell? And that's when it comes back to him.

The demon, the crash, Dean lying near death in intensive care at the hospital. He couldn't let Dean die. It would kill him… and Sam, poor Sam had lost so much already. Then the deal he made… the demon wanting more…if it'll save his son, then hell yes. He'd give whatever he had to. Dean sitting up in the hospital bed…_alive. _Thank God… and then nothing… wait, not nothing… flashes… flashes of another hospital… another ER…

In the mirror he sees his own eyes widen in shock. "Oh God, what have I done? What did you make me do?" Horrified he watches his own lips curl into an evil smile, his own eyes turn iridescent yellow. He doesn't recognize his own face.

"What's the matter John?" His voice… but not his voice… has an animalistic growl to it. "Already regretting our little deal? Too bad. You can't back out now." Was this what the boys had seen when… Oh God he felt sick. Wanted to throw up. But the demon had control now. The demon wouldn't allow it. "Don't worry John. We're going to have fun you and I. You'll see…"


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

"Hi there. I'm Agent Fox and this is Agent Mulder, Federal Bureau of Investigation." Show of badge. Flash of teeth in a disarming smile. "We're, uh, here to see the crime scene to determine if this is a matter of National Security." Take a moment to let the guy make up his mind. Silently curse the monkey suit Sam insisted on for this. The damn thing is so uncomfortable… and freaking itchy. Stupid tie. Really, was this dressing up crap really necessary?

Is this taking longer than usual? It's been like five minutes. If they were going to call the bluff and make arrests it usually happens about now… but no, the security guard comes back and all seems cool for now.

"You guys sure this is necessary? I mean, granted it's strange but they were just oxygen tanks…"

"Hey, we're just here to look things over. You know, make sure nothing was overlooked. Doubt anything'll come of it. It's really just a formality." Give the guy a confident look and pray it doesn't look as fake as it feels. Apparently it works because he waves to go ahead in. Even holds up the yellow crime scene tape. Push open the door. Glance over at Sam as he steps through. Wait for it to close…"Well, that was easier than I thought it would be!"

Sam laughs at his brother. "What's the matter Dean, were you worried they'd arrest you a_gain_?" Dean couldn't help but smile back.

"Nah. I was worried they'd take one look at you and realize you were too much of a pretty boy to be FBI. It would have totally blown our cover."

"Yeah, whatever man. You're just jealous I look better in a suit than you do."

Well Sam had him there.

"Not jealous. Grateful. I got the handsome genes which means _I_ get laid. You got the pretty ones, and that's why you're the misunderstood emotional one. 'Cause you're in touch with your _feminine_ side. Personally I think _I_ got the better end of _that_ deal."

The banter would have gone on but one look away from each other and around the room they had just entered and neither could say a word.

The bodies had been removed. Replaced by chalk and tape outlines. Pictures in some cases where tape and chalk couldn't be applied. Guess whatever did this didn't think about how a body impaled on an IV hook might mess with the local authorities ability to draw the outline. Damn but the picture was graphic.

"Hey, Sam. Almost looks like whatever it was tossed these poor folk around doesn't it?" The wheels were turning in Dean's head. Sam found it scary sometimes the way his brother could spin an accurate fix on a situation with so very little to go on.

"Yeah. The way some of them landed… doesn't seem natural… more like they levitated or something to get to where they died…" Levitated...hmm…

Dean's eyes went wide, his jaw set grimly. "I'm thinking a demon. Possession of some sort."

He was scrutinizing one of the many charred markings that were everywhere.

"What?!?" Sam couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Why would a demon let loose in the middle of an ER?"

"Don't know Sam. But it sure would account for a lot of this stuff wouldn't it? I mean, these symbols. They're shaped so perfectly that you couldn't do a better job with a ruler and pencil. These things were on _fire_. Only one thing _I _know of that can accomplish something like that."

It was some sort of demon. He was positive of it. Would bet his car on it.

"I don't know…Maybe we should look into the history of the hospital. Could just have been some angry spirits. You know, like with the Roosevelt Asylum in Illinois a few months back. Granted this hospital's not abandoned… but so many people die in these places that it's a possibility."

Dean couldn't believe it. The evidence was right there in front of their eyes, and Sammy was looking for alternatives? Anyone else and it would have been expected… He expected more from his brother than that.

"No dude. It's a demon. I'll stake my car on it."

Sam shot him an 'are-you-insane?' look over the blood spatter on the nurses station.

"Don't look at me like that. Have you seen the pictures? Some of those people had blood coming out of places that shouldn't have been bleeding. Chest in the men, stomach in the women. There's gore on the freaking _ceiling _Sam."

Apparently he hadn't had the chance to yet because he went straight for the nearest shot to look for himself. Dean leaned in over his shoulder to take another look himself. "Now tell me: you know of anything else that does that to people?"

Sam didn't answer. Didn't have to answer. They both knew it was a no.

"Well, whatever the damn thing wanted… it sure did a thorough job of making sure any living thing in here was dead before he left. Even the plants are shattered, wilted and in pieces." It was started to get to him, all this blood and death. Sam didn't know how much longer he could take being here. His stomach was churning painfully. It wouldn't be long before it turned on him completely.

"Yeah, tell me about it. Even made sure that whatever was in the trauma and exam rooms weren't left out." Dean called from the other end of the ER where the exam and trauma rooms were. God, the thoroughness of it all was sickening. Blood _everywhere._ Everywhere except… the one exam room… right smack in the middle of the ward. Lucky number seven. "Sam! Sam, c'mere. You've gotta see this!"

The room was empty. It was white. It was pristinely clean. In the middle of all that carnage it was just _wrong_. Dean wouldn't even step through the doorway until Sam came to join him.

"What the…?"

"Yeah, my thoughts exactly. What do you think it means?"

"Honestly? Dean, I have no idea. Maybe we should…"

"Look around? Yeah… " He didn't want to though. Had this nasty feeling that he wouldn't necessarily like what he would find.

They hesitated but in the end Sam went ahead and Dean followed him in. Their father had taught them to be thorough. If you missed even the smallest detail it could be important and you could wind up dead. After recent events, neither was willing to risk it.

"You think maybe it was in here? Waiting for some sort of cue before attacking those people in there?" Sam asked from beside the bed. There were indentations where someone had been sitting. Hand marks on the edge of the mattress on either side as if whoever it was had been hanging on for dear life.

"Kind of looks like it doesn't it? Never known a demon to just wait around though. Usually just gets right into it…" Dean was in the cabinets above and below the sink in the corner. Nothing there. No blood anywhere, not even the usual garden-variety hospital related kind… No burn marks anywhere, no charred anything… It was freaky…

Something dark in the corner behind Sam caught Dean's eye. It looked familiar. A large black lump of cloth on the seat of the chair. As if someone had taken whatever it was off and carelessly bunched it into a ball and tossed it aside. A…coat…? No! It couldn't possibly… be…

He felt as if he was pushing against a current as he slowly approached the chair. He didn't know if he was right… didn't necessarily _wamt_ to know… but he needed to see, to be sure. One foot in front of the other until he was mere inches away from whatever it was and he was reaching down to pick it up. "Sam…" his voice broke as he tried to speak. It was right there, in his hands. Impossible to deny. Black serge so worn it was soft to the touch.

"Dad…" It was a whisper. Heartbreak before the anger took over again. Sam just stood rooted to that same spot next to the bed. Eyes and mouth wide open, unable to speak. Couldn't even move until he heard Dean's whisper. Then the whisper turned into a growl that shook Sam into action.

They had to get out of there. Now. No telling if there was still something there. Something watching them. They had to talk to the two survivors. There was no point denying that the demon was involved now… but they needed the facts, _all _the facts, before they did anything more.

"Dean." No response.

"Dean. We have to go." But Dean was lost in his own thoughts. Sorting through the jumbled mess of possibilities. This coat. _Dad_'s coat. What the hell did it mean? He was _dead_. They'd cremated him themselves for God's sake.

Had the demon kept it as some kind of trophy? A prize to show his evil demon buddies that he defeated the Great John Winchester, and now had his coat to prove it? He just couldn't… make…sense…of it.

"Dean! I think... I just heard…the door in the lobby…" It was weak, but it's all he could come up with to snap Dean out of it.

It worked. He watched as his brother shook himself out of whatever he had been thinking and then suddenly was back in forward motion again.

"Let's go Sam. We need to get up to Psych. Get some answers from the survivors."

Yes, answers. He wanted, _needed_ answers. And he would have them. Before the day was out. No matter what he had to do to get them.

Dean had a purpose again. One beyond watching over Sam as he'd promised his father and finding another hunt. He had a lesson to teach. Class was in session and the professor was in.

That demon didn't know it yet but it had managed to unleash seven different kinds of Hell on itself.

**You just don't _mess_ with the Winchesters**.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

The room is small and cosy. Decorated in pale blues, greens and yellows. Stuffed animals all over the place. Pictures of friendly cartoon animals on the walls. There's a change table against the far wall, a rocking chair by the window and a beautiful blonde wood crib in the middle of the room.

It's the middle of the night and the room is quiet and dark save for the soft lullabies. The soft glow of the nightlight falls gently across the crib and the baby who lies within it. A soft sigh comes from the child's lips as he dreams in the type of peace known only to the very small. He doesn't dream for long.

The lullabies that his mother had left on for him earlier when she'd put him down to sleep stopped abruptly mid-song. It was enough to make the child open his eyes and fuss. When the night light went out too he got scared. Where was his mommy? He started to cry. Mommy always came to him when he cried.

_That's right little one. Call her and she will come…_

But the baby doesn't hear the voice. Doesn't see the clock stop as his mother comes into the room. Wouldn't have known what it meant even if he had. All he saw was his mommy leaning over the side of the crib and rubbing his tummy to comfort him.

"Shh sweetheart. It's alright. mommy's here." Only mommy isn't alone. She just doesn't realize it yet.

There's a man there too… or… the shadow of a man… standing behind her just out of sight. "I'll go get your bottle sweetie, and then well rock a little while until you fall asleep again. I'll be right back…" She kisses the baby's forehead tenderly and turns to go.

She turns and is met by bright yellow eyes in solid darkness and screams. Slowly she is lifted by something she cannot see. Up the wall…. Onto the ceiling… Above the crib… Oh god Micheal, don't look baby… close your eyes _please._ She thinks the words because she can no longer speak.

There's a sharp pain somewhere near her middle and then blood. Warm and thick. She feels it spread and then watches it drip.

A man comes running in, screaming her name "_Georgia!" _But it's too late. The searing heat comes and then the flames and she is consumed. Little Micheal screams his fear from beneath her in his crib.

Oh my God! The baby. In the shock of what he'd walked in on he had forgotten about little Micheal. One swift motion and the child is swept up, blanket and all, into his father's big strong arms. Then the man is running. Running out of the room, down the stairs and out the nearest door. Finally away from the flames, and safe… he turns and drops to his knees in the grass as he watches the house go up in flames.

The demon is there among the flames. Unseen. Unnoticed. Glowing eyes burning as hotly as the fire that surrounds him as he watches the boy and his father. Another breadcrumb for the Winchester boys to follow… Another child who will grow to fit his plans. Two birds with one stone. Not bad for a night's work. Satisfied he returns to the shadows from whence he came, back to the motel where he'd left John Winchester to rest.

He would have brought his nemesis and current host along for the ride. Would have enjoyed his reaction. The horror that would have gripped him, watching this happy little family being torn apart the same way his own had been over two decades before. All the sweeter that his body would have played a part in that destruction.

But it had been days since he'd let the man sleep. John Winchester was worn out and if he was pushed any farther beyond his limits he may very well die. For real this time. That would never do. He had to live… live long enough for the plan to come to completion. Sam and Dean hadn't even seen him yet…

Back at the motel John passes in and out of consciousness. His hands are bound, but it's just a formality really. Every time his eyes open he makes the tremendous effort to work the ropes. He needed to get free… needed to get a message to the boys somehow… needed to tell them… and warn them… but he can't stay conscious for more than a few minutes at a time and it's just not enough. The ropes binding his wrists are never more than frayed and he never moves much further than to the edge of the bed.

Then the smell of sulphur floods the room again and he knows he is no longer alone. Knows he can no longer afford himself the luxury of thoughts of escape. The shadow materializes above him. Surrounds him. Fills him until he feels like his body will explode. His skin feels taut and paper thin. The demon takes control of his body.

Then that voice is there in the darkness again… his voice. "Trying to free yourself John? These ropes were a lot tighter when I left. Now, that's just not right. Goes against our little deal, doesn't it? A life for a life… and a gun of course, heh heh. Would be a shame if I had to take that life back now wouldn't it? If you run Dean dies, and that is something _neither_ of us wants…so don't push me Winchester. I'd take it kind of personally."

There were two others in the room now. Others possessed by shadows, though none as strong as the demon himself was. They were untying his hands now that he could no longer try to run. Now that he no longer had control of his body.

Fighting the darkness that always came when the demon took control. "You'll never win you evil bastard, _you hear me?" _He cried out desperately. Angrily. "My boys'll hunt you down and finish you off…" It was surreal to hear his own voice answer him "_Oh, we'll see about that John." _

They most certainly would John thought to himself as darkness blurred the edges of his mind again. He'd been preparing them their whole lives for this…and now Dean knew what John himself had known for so long now…about Sam's powers and the demon… they had what they needed to finish it once and for all. He just hoped that when the time finally came he'd be in a position to help them, rather than hurt them again.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

It was hard to smile and thank the security guard. Hard not to just sprint down the hall and to the elevators headed to the psych ward. Hard not to rage his frustration at the fact that the demon was _still_ using their father against them. The only good Dean had been able to pull from his father's death was that he might finally have found peace… maybe even with his mom again.

Those two thoughts were the only thing that kept him from going completely insane with guilt. It was the only way he could justify the fact that he was still alive… That one tiny little hope was the only thing keeping from falling right over the edge into the abyss that he'd been just barely hanging over for weeks now.

That single solitary hope was now being shaken. The black serge that he kept clutched tightly in his fist had opened up the door to a whole new set of possibilities. Sinister, dark, terrifying possibilities that made him want to scream. His worst nightmare, the one he'd never acknowledged…even to himself. The one that had always been there buried deep down within him was now suddenly a possible reality.

What if the demon had done more than just take his father's life? Would he and Sam have to face the unthinkable? To hunt their father's spirit…Christ he sure hoped not. It was enough already that he'd broken down on the side of the road in front of Sammy like that… even just thinking about it now… ugh. And now Sammy knew what he was feeling… Argh! He'd even cried for God's sake! He was in worse shape than he'd ever realized. Dean Winchester had not shed a tear in front of anyone since the age of eight. To face hunting his father's spirit… now? It would take more strength than he had. Hell, it would take more than he had _ever_ had.

Somehow he managed to eek out a smile for show when they passed through the door again. Somehow he managed to walk, not sprint, down the long corridor that led to the elevator lobby. Somehow he manage to _act_ okay even though he really, _really_ wasn't.

Despite the spacious interior designed to accommodate hospital beds and gurneys the elevators seemed small and cramped. He was claustrophobic... Had the distinct feeling that the walls were starting to close in on them… maybe it was haunted too? It felt like hours before they reached the third floor and when they finally did he didn't feel much better.

"Dude, we're taking the stairs to get back down to the car." Sam didn't argue. He'd noticed the light sheen of sweat develop during the elevator ride and the fidgeting restlessness that were so unlike his brother. The last time he'd seen Dean act like that they had been on a plane ten thousand feet up in the air… _before_ the exorcism… before the plane started going down.

It was the coat. That goddamned coat. Who would have thought that a piece of cloth could wreak so much havoc in such a short amount of time? That it belonged to their Dad was undeniable. Hell, he could smell their father's aftershave on it just standing next to Dean in the elevator. He knew every wear mark, every little tear by heart. Finding it here, _now_? Sam had no idea what it could possibly mean. But he was going to find out… _they _were going to find out.

* * *

Everything in the Psych ward was white. Not just any kind of white either. Dull, bland, antiseptic white. It made Dean's skin crawl. Sent a chill down Sam's spine.

Surprisingly there were people everywhere. Patients of all ages with vacant stares caused by medication milling around the main lobby in hospital pajamas. Others shuffling up and down the halls or lying in their beds in the rooms on either side. Doctors, nurses and staff were busily doling out medication and ushering the stronger willed patients from point A to point B with pinched, unhappy expressions. Well wasn't this just a happy place to be. How on earth was anyone supposed to get _better _in a place like _this?_

At least the nurse at the desk was cute… with a warm smile and big brown eyes…"Well hello there. I'm Agent Fox." Dean introduced himself, taking the time to give her a very wide and appreciative smile. Oh, he appreciated all right… He most definitely appreciated…

The world could be literally falling to pieces around them, but give Dean Winchester a pretty girl and he would charm and flirt exactly what he wanted out of her.

"Hello Mr. Fox (small, shy, dimpled smile) What can I do for you today?" she asked. Hmm… well for starters…He felt a sharp jab of bony elbow in his side just as he was about to fill in the blanks for her. He gave Sam a dirty look and watched him shake his head, annoyed, and look disgustedly away.

What the hell did Sam expect from him? He was falling apart, holding tightly to his dead father's coat that was most likely left in the middle of demon-wrought carnage to taunt them by the thing that had killed both their parents. He needed this. Needed to put the front back up, his wall against the outside world, or else he would fall to pieces right there where he stood. And when he did… it would be a complete and utter meltdown. They would probably end up sedating him for his own safety and refuse to let him leave. _Where would you be then Sam? Alone, Unprotected. I don't think so. I didn't cheat death twice just to take the easy way out and go insane. I'm not throwing in the towel now. Not yet. _

"We're with the FBI. Just came from the crime scene downstairs. We have a couple of questions for the two survivors, if you don't mind pointing us in the right direction?"

"Oh right, the ER last night! Security phoned up to let us know you were coming. Unfortunately they're both pretty badly off…don't know if you'll be able to get anything useful out of them at all…' She was everything a nurse should be: pretty, sympathetic, compassionate.

"Well, be that as it may we're here to do our job so we're going to have to try and ask anyway." Dean on the other hand… well he could care less how the survivors were holding up… not today… not with his father's coat gripped so tightly in his fist that his knuckles had gone white. He needed answers.

"How bad is it exactly?" Sam was asking in that way of his. Atta boy Sammy, get her talking. The more we get the better.

"Well, Betty… she's a dear friend of mine. One of the ER nurses. Anyway, Betty was on shift last night when everything happened. Mostly she won't talk to anyone… and when she does…well none of it makes any sense." Concern and sadness chased each other over her delicate features but her professionalism had her trudging on. "The doctor's put her in room three. It's a private room at the end of that hall to my left… just there." The nurse leaned over the desk and pointed to the room.

"As for the man… he's been in the lobby with his family most of today. Though I can't say he's doing any better than Betty is. Poor things, the both of them. He was in a car crash last night before… well, he was being processed through triage when it all happened. Broken arm, bruised ribs, shattered ankle. The guy was already in pretty rough shape. Now… well I guess two freak accidents in a row were too much to handle. He's become completely unhinged."

Sam, as always, the picture of understanding and empathy. "Wow, that's terrible. If you don't mind my asking… what exactly have they been saying happened? You know, so we know what to expect when we talk with them."

"Not at all. It'll probably make things easier in everyone if you go in prepared and knowing what to expect. You'll have a better chance of getting them to talk with you if you stay calm when they tell you their stories.

Betty keeps telling us that a man did it. Can you imagine? A man who was somehow picking people up and throwing them across the room without even touching them. Setting things on fire and making the tanks explode just by looking at them. It's just so sad… to see her this way…" Dean shot a disturbed look over at Sam who was just barely covering his own shock.

Taking their silence as sympathy, the nurse heaved a deep mournful sigh for her friend before going on. "As for Mr. Reese… well he blacked out just after the first set of tanks blew… but he's saying that a shadow took over his body. Says he could feel it inside him… really creepy stuff. Post Traumatic Stress does strange things to people's minds." Another heartfelt sigh.

Neither brother could speak at first. A man. Tossing people around in the air without touching them… setting things on fire just by looking at them… and shadows… shadows that could control people's bodies… _possessing _them. Apparently Dean had been right. Only at this point it seemed that it wasn't just any demon… from what they had just heard it just might be _the _demon.

"Alright then… let's get this over with shall we?" Dean was the first one to shake himself out of it. Suddenly he was all business. "Sam, if you'll talk to Mr. Reece over there, I'll go see nurse Betty. Wouldn't want to bother them any longer than we have to." Charming smile to the pretty nurse. "Thank you miss, you've been a great help." She barely had time to blush and he was already halfway down the hall, ready to pry the answers out of Betty with a crow bar if he had to.

* * *

Her room was so very _quiet_. Quiet like that man had been just before she'd spoken with Dr. Johnson…

Oh God! She didn't want to think about it again. Thinking about it was reliving it. She didn't want to go through it all again! It's all she'd been seeing, thinking, breathing ever since…

The _silence_. It was overwhelming. Cold, clammy fingers of dread were crawling across her skin as images of blood and death danced just past the edge of her sanity. A distraction… she needed a distraction… _anything _to end this terrible silence!

Then there they were. Footsteps. Heavy and hurried as they echoed on the linoleum floor in the hallway. A tiny squeak as they stopped. A knock on the open door… She didn't dare say a word. It could be _him _again.

"Uh, hello?" It was a man. His deep hesitant voice told her that much. It was a man… but not the man from the night before. _Oh thank heavens_! She turned to face him and he took this as the sign it was to continue.

"I'm, uh, Agent Fox of the FBI. I need to, ah, ask you a few questions about what happened last night in the ER."

Those eyes. She knew those eyes… or ones just like them… Same intensity, same shape. Wrong color though… the ones she was thinking of had been far darker…

And that voice… she didn't even hear the words. Just listened to the tone. The rhythm and inflections… the rumble that lay just beneath it. Maybe not as deep as the one she was remembering… but still so very similar…

"Do you know him?" She blurted out cutting him off mid-question. Suddenly the need to know was more than she could bear.

"Excuse me?" Oh, she'd caught him off guard. He looked confused. She had to try to be clearer. She needed to know…

"Do you _know_ him?" But she couldn't… couldn't find any other words than those… at least not yet.

"Him? Him who?"

"The man…" well that was a little better. At least she had found a different word. "the one from exam room seven." There it was. Maybe now he'd answer her.

She didn't hear his answer though, because that one question had sent her already unstable mind reeling back to that little white room with the dark man sitting silently on the edge of the bed. Legs dangling over the side, hands clutching the mattress… just staring.

This new person in the room with her… he was the same… the same, only _different_. Where the one had been so very, disturbingly dark… this one… this one was a beacon of light and he was shining brightly. So brightly that she knew. This one… when he found the dark one the light in him would shine so brightly that the dark would disappear into nothing.

She didn't know it but she was talking to him, rambling about light and dark men. Dean. Dean was soaking it all up like a sponge to water, trying desperately to figure out what it all meant.

Neither of them knew it yet but the woman's ramblings were the closest thing to prophecy that they could get. Roy LeGrange had tried to tell him months earlier the first time he had nearly died. Dean had a job to do…one that wasn't finished yet. And it was something only _he_ could finish.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

The term 'nutjob' wasn't strong enough. Not by a long shot. At least by Dean's standards.

It was too bad too. She'd had him going for a second there… when she asked him about the dark man that had been in exam room seven "…and you know, she was making sense …well, right up until she started going on about my light and how it was so strong and bright that it was gonna burn 'the dark' into nothing…"

"Heh heh,. What, you don't think you're capable of having an 'inner light'?"

Dean just rolled his eyes and pushed the gas pedal down a little further. It felt good to hear the engine roar.

"Oh _Please. _I mean _come on_… 'inner light'?"

Him? No way. Not a chance. With that black hole building momentum inside him, ever since… inner light…_yeah right_.

Dean could say what he wanted. Sam had his own theories on that particular subject.

"We've certainly seen stranger things..."

"You've _got_ to be _kidding_ me… you're taking her seriously?"

"Well, it would explain an awful lot."

What? What the hell was he talking about? Explain _what _exactly?

"Yeah, 'cause I'm just so freaking complex I need explaining now?"

Sam just watched him, expectantly as if he was waiting for something. Dean knew exactly what that _something _was.

Deep sigh…"All right. _Fine_. Explain _what_ exactly?" He didn't even bother to try and hide how annoyed he was.

"What Roy told you a few months back for one."

"Roy…? Roy who?" Oh God please don't let him say it… that was a time and place he did _not _need to be reminded of now.

"Come on Dean. You can't have already forgotten… I mean, you almost died on me… and Roy LeGrange healed you… and, well there was Leah… and the Reaper on a leash."

Deep breath Dean. _Damn_! He's gonna make you face it after all. Suck it up man, maybe he'll drop it if you go with it.

"Oh. Right. _That _Roy. So refresh my memory: what exactly did our boy say that was so mysterious it needs explaining?"

"That stuff about how you just kind of stood out from all the rest for starters… and how you have a job to do that's not finished yet." Crap. There _was_ that all right.

"Dude, the guy was a quack. Let it go. I do _not_ have any kind of 'inner light' so drop it already. I've had enough."

But Sam just kept on watching him with a big goofy grin plastered all over his face. Great, now what?

"What!?" Dean asked roughly. He was losing patience fast.

"Nothing… just waiting to see if you're going to start glowing in the dark or something." And then the big-ass brat started humming the tune to 'let it shine' as Deans' face slowly started turning a bright shade of pink.

"Man, you really are a geek. You know that?" The words had barely passed Dean's lips and Sam gave up the humming completely and started laughing instead. When Sam laughed it was impossible for Dean _not _to smile.

Neither of them noticed the man who was lurking in the shadows by the side of the road, watching the Impala drive by. He was so dark he was practically part of the shadows in which he hid. Glittering eyes followed the car as it drove on toward the motel. They had come to him faster than he'd expected. It pleased him to see it. Maybe he'd get to see the shock on their faces when they found out about the family he'd just paid a visit to…

_It's almost time John…_

_Time for your little family to be reunited again…_

_Time for the boys to learn the truth…_

_Time for them to accept my gift…even if I have to force it on them… _

_With the 'Great John Winchester' under my control your boys don't stand a chance…_

_They'll be staring into your eyes as I break them…_

That goddamned voice in his head. He fought it. Not his boys. They're too strong.

"Never!" One word of rebellion came from deep within him and for just a moment, shorter than a heartbeat, John Winchester managed to push the shadow aside and get the word out in his own voice: _Never_.

_Fight it all you want John. In the end it won't matter at all. It won't be long now… _

* * *

He couldn't sleep. Didn't want to.

Lying wide awake on the lumpy motel room bed he listened to Sam's slow, steady breathing. Damned if the roles hadn't been completely reversed lately. Dean had been tossing and turning for hours now. It's not that he didn't need the rest, he just didn't want to face what he saw when he closed his eyes. His father with bright yellow eyes trying to rip his heart right out of his chest, dead on the floor in the hospital, burning on the funeral pyre he and Sam had built… God help him but _he wanted his dad back!!_

Alright. That's it. Enough of this crap. Distraction time… Some late night TV should do the trick. There had to be a movie or something on. There always was at this time of night…

So he got up, wrapped a blanket around himself and trudged his tired, stubborn behind over to the chair across from the tv. It took a minute to figure out the remote so he could turn the damned thing on… but instead of frustrating him like it normally would it was a welcome distraction. Something to think about other than himself and his messed up feelings. Ugh! _Feelings_. He wished he didn't have any.

Then suddenly he was bathed in the near-fluorescent glow from the screen as the tv came to life. Well, that was better he thought smugly as he eased himself back into the comforting depths of the chair and tugged the blanket closed around him for warmth. Time for a little channel surfing. Morning was a long way off. Let the marathon begin.

Channel one, some sort of hockey thing… nah. He'd have to put the effort into following the score…

Channel two, some sort of 'Discovery Channel' type deal about… are those _anteaters?_... yeah, right… _next_

Channel three, some sort of decorating/home makeover show… as a rule, he never watched anything with the words 'decorating' or 'make-over' in them…

Channel four, nothing…

Channel five, more nothing…

Channel six… Oprah rerun…interesting… except if Sammy woke up he'd never hear the end of it…no thanks

Channel seven, _more_ nothing…

Channel eight, the local news… something about a fire?..._hang on_…

The news correspondent, Sheila something-or-other, was standing in front of a still-burning two-storey house. There was something all too familiar about the scene… the man in the background holding his infant son close to his heart…both of them covered in ash… What _was_ it about that _house?_ He'd seen it before somewhere…

Leaning in closer he tried to catch what she was saying without turning up the volume. Something about a possible electrical short causing the nursery to catch fire… One woman dead… survived by her husband and six month old son who had managed to escape the inferno… and then the caption at the bottom of the screen. The location. _Lawrence, Kansas_.

"Sammy? SAM! Get up! We gotta go."

This was bad. This was very, _very_ bad.

Outside a bright flash of white teeth slashed through the darkness. _That's right Dean. Follow the trail and don't forget to bring your brother. I'll be waiting for you both at the end. _


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

Missouri Mosely stood in the rain under a wide colorful umbrella watching the burning wreck that had once been a home fall in on itself. Little Micheal and his father had been whisked away by the paramedics hours ago but their heartbreak and pain still hung over her and this place as if it were one of the dark clouds overhead weeping tears upon them.

Tired firemen were dousing what was left of the home with their hoses, doing their best to keep the fire contained until it burnt itself out. From the look of things it would be hours still until they would be able to leave even with the rain.

A couple of police officers were on the scene keeping curious onlookers in check and fielding questions with the local media. Why on earth couldn't those vultures just leave well enough alone? It really did take all kinds…

Of course none of these things were the reason she had come here.

Neither was the familiar evil that she could still feel surrounding this place… still out there somewhere...

Nor even the strong positive force that she knew so well that had somehow become meshed with it.

No, she was here to get as much information as she could. Her kind of information…the psychic kind. Then she had to get home as quickly as she could.

She was waiting for someone… two someone's actually. Sam and Dean Winchester were on their way and she aimed to be there when they arrived. They had no idea what they were walking into and they would most certainly need her help.

* * *

The pitter-patter of rain on the Impala's windshield matched the rhythm of Dean's erratic hearbeat. What the hell was going on? Weren't these things supposed to have patterns? Rules? This damned demon seemed hell bent on breaking every one of them.

The coat was still there, lying just out of sight on the backseat. Silently whispering Dean's fears so that they echoed in his head. It was looking more and more as if they were headed toward another showdown. If they were then they would need time… and a place to prepare for an exorcism. Hopefully it would work. Otherwise…well without the Colt he had no idea what the hell their options were. Except maybe run and hide. Personally he wasn't much of a fan of either one. He was more of the 'face it head on and beat it to hell' kind of guy.

"Hey. Dean. What's the matter? You're thinking so loud I can hear the wheels turning from all the way over here."

"Just considering our options…" and dreading going home.

"Yeah, I know what you mean. I wish we knew where the Colt was. I'd feel a whole lot safer if we had it on _our_ side."

Sammy, you have no idea…

"Yeah well. Let's just get to this place and see what happened. I could be wrong about this. We might get lucky."

Sure Dean. Since when are you ever wrong about stuff like this?

Silence took over again and neither dared voice the things they were thinking, choosing instead to let the big black car roar away as it ate up the miles to their next destination. Home.

* * *

Until then they had managed to avoid acknowledging the fact that the hospital ER gig had brought them back to Kansas again. Now that they were headed to Lawrence… well it was impossible to deny it any more.

The past was catching up to them again. They were in up to their eyeballs on this one…

Twenty years had gone by and now Sam and Dean were standing just down the street from the home that had been ripped out from under them. Looking at the remains of another family's peaceful life that had literally gone up in flames was the worst kind of déjà vu.

"The damned thing is playing with us Sam. Stringing us along like puppets on a string. I _don't like it_!"

There was no way they could have known what would happen in that ER… except for the coat there had been nothing there to tie them to the scene in any way.

_This_… this they should have seen coming. They had their father's notes. All his research on this _thing _and its movements.

"We could have stopped this. Should have been able to stop this." If Dad were here… but Dad wasn't here. Because of him. _He _was to blame for this. How the hell could Sam put any faith into that 'inner light' crap when it was so clear that he was the reason all this was happening?

"There's no way we could have known Dean…" Sam tried but Dean wouldn't hear him.

"Dad would have known Sammy! _We_ should have known."

They were at a standoff. Dean was blaming himself again. Sam didn't want him to… he sure as hell didn't blame him for any of it… but there was no arguing with Dean when he was like this. So all he could do was sigh and look away.

"Look, Dean…it's five a.m. We should get some breakfast… then I think we should go see Missouri. She might be able to help." "Great. Just the woman I wanted to see today." Sarcasm was a wonderful thing Dean thought to himself as he shook off the rain from his jacket and climbed back in behind the wheel.

* * *

Pouring rain, flash of light, crash of thunder… raging storms were glorious chaos. The man was strolling through the downpour, whistling to himself as happily as if it were a beautiful sunny day. Had there been anyone else out on the street they would have thought him crazy… as it was though it was just him, the storm and the darkness. Just the way he liked it. He was going to go pay a call to an old friend. Of John's.

Missouri didn't need her psychic powers to know that something evil was coming. The scene she'd witnessed that morning would have been proof enough…even if she hadn't been sensing the presence for days already. Now, standing in the middle of her living room feeling it come closer she was thankful that she'd taken the time to protect her home. She'd keep that thing out by sheer force of will if she had to, if it came right down to it.

It was midmorning but the skies were so dark it may as well have been the middle of the night. Even in the darkness the figure was unmistakable as it came up the street toward her home. Sauntering slowly, playing with her. Playing with _them_.

She felt badly for the boys. They'd only just arrived. Dean had just barely had the time to park his precious car in her garage when the storm started raging in earnest. There was no time to warn them who was coming… barely enough to tell them _what_ was coming… and then there it was waltzing up her driveway.

If anyone knew how to keep evil out of a home, Missouri did. Salt, charms and all manner of paraphernalia… she'd used all the knowledge she had to prepare. To keep John's boys safe from harm until their time came. It was enough that they were about to experience the revelation of their lives, guaranteed to shake the very foundations their father had built beneath them. She was not going to allow them to be harmed, possibly killed in the process. And most certainly not in her own home.

"Sam, Dean. Listen carefully now… there isn't much time. You need to hide. The closet, the bathroom… doesn't matter where as long as you're in my home and can't be seen from the outside."

"_What?_ Why?" Oh that Dean and his attitude. "Because the demon is here, and he can't know that _you're_ here. At least not yet." But it was too late.

"MISSOURI!" He was a shadow in the center of her front lawn. "MISSOURI! I know you're in there!"

Two sets of startled eyes had settled on Missouri. She lifted a hand. A warning to stay where they were, to not say a word. _That voice_. They knew that voice… was that? It sounded like their father… But that was impossible…

Then there was wicked laughter in that low rumble they knew so well. "You don't have to answer me. I know you're there… standing in the middle of your living room with my boys. It's such a glorious day Missouri… you sure you don't want to come out and play?" Okay… apparently _not _impossible.

"_Dad_?" Dean's ragged voice cut through the din of the storm. The pain in that one word was deafeningly loud. Heart breaking for the poor boy, Missouri turned to him and mouthed the words 'I'm sorry'.

Bright yellow eyes flashed just beyond the living room window.

"I want my boys Missouri!"

"Your boys? I don't think so. These are John Winchesters boys."

"Oh, but haven't you heard? I _am_ John Winchester. Come now… send the boys out and I'll leave you in pieces."

"The hell you are you evil bastard!" The shock hadn't worn off yet, but Dean felt the familiar hot anger starting to course through him again. Anger was good. Anger made him strong.

"Come out or I'll pull that house down around you." It was an empty threat designed to intimidate. The demon had no intention of finishing them off, at least not here. Not yet. No, when the time came Sam and Dean were going to come to _him_.

"Can he _do _that?" Sam cast a worried look toward Missouri.

"No Sam. He can't" she answered him in that soft, steel edged voice of hers.

Then the walls started to shake along with everything else inside as if there was some sort of freak earthquake shaking the house and its foundations..

Dean shot her an 'oh really ?' look, obviously skeptical about how right she could be. "You sure about that?"

"Dean Winchester, I am protecting your behind from almost certain death and you have the nerve to doubt me?"

He threw up his hands in surrender. "Okay! O_kay_! I get it. We're safe."

"And don't you sass me boy."

But he didn't hear her…couldn't hear her… because the yellow eyes had been replaced by the soft familiar brown ones he knew so well. "Dean…"

The voice was pure anguish and it sent Dean reeling back in time. Suddenly he was right back on that floor, blood pouring out of his chest listening to his father begging Sam to shoot him. To end it.

He didn't know how he got there, palms pressed to the window watching his father walk back down the drive. Didn't know how it was possible for his father to still be alive…

He was looking at him, knew he was real…and yet… they had burnt the body. Their father was _dead._

He wanted to run after him…wanted desperately for that man to be the father he had lost. Could it really be…? Oh God… Was it even possible? And if it was… could they save him from the demon and still send the s.o.b. right back into hell where it belonged?

The demon had wanted to wear them down… play into their grief to send them walking blindly down the path it was laying before them and right into his trap. It had made a big mistake in revealing John to them.

Somewhere in all the darkness that had surrounded Dean since his father's death, in the darkest recesses of the abyss that had filled him so completely a faint glimmer of hope sparked to life. Instead of making him weaker it had given him exactly what he needed to become stronger.

Dean was back… he was determined…and he was mad as _hell_.


	8. Chapter 8

Hi! I know it's been awhile since I've updated this... been posting it on Supernatural.tv. It's finished now though so I'll post the next chapter and wait for you all to let me know if you want to read the rest, okay:)

As always I don't own Supernatural, or the Winchesters or the Metallicar... I just like to take them out for a drive through the landscape of my imagination every once in a while...

Enjoy the next chapter! Hope to read your reviews soon. Thanks!

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* * *

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**Chapter Eight**

The curtains were drawn and he was in darkness again. Again? No that wasn't right…more like _still_.

John was sitting in the motel room chair again, bolt upright with open palms resting lightly on his knees. Waking was different this time. This time he knew where he was and he remembered _everything_.

He'd seen the boys. _Oh my God_, he'd seen _his boys_… and Missouri, bless her soul, had protected them with everything she had.

_Ah, but that's the way I planned it John… _

The voice was inside his head, and it wasn't his own for a change. Everything was different. He could control his body…his voice…all along he'd felt like a visitor in his own body and now suddenly it was his again. What does this mean? Had the demon lost interest? Did it need to rest? Now there was an interesting concept…

Memories were tugging at him. Demanding his attention. He remembered watching the Impala speed by, Dean at the wheel and Sam sitting shotgun. They'd both been smiling. It had warmed his heart to see it.

Then at Missouri's. He couldn't see much with the rain pouring down around him like that but Sam and Dean's silhouettes next to Missouri were unmistakable. _His_ boys he thought proudly as he heard Missouri's voice echo his own thoughts.

The demon had gone straight for the window at the sound of Dean's voice. The damn thing was so vain… it loved watching the havoc it wrought. His son had sounded… broken. Or damn near it.

He would have smiled if he'd been able to when he heard Dean shout out at the demon defiantly. "The hell you are…" he'd said. John had never been more proud. That's right Dean, use that anger… use it to get yourself through. Give him hell son. But then he'd seen the look in his eyes.

Confusion, hurt, blame, guilt… John had made the deal for Dean's life because to watch his son die would have killed him. He could handle just about anything, but not that. Not death. Not his children. Never.

He'd never counted on Dean blaming himself. He'd wanted him to _live_ damn it! What kind of life could his son have with all that weight on his shoulders?

Rage, rage, rage… all he could feel, think, breathe was rage… and anguish. It welled up inside him until he felt like he was overflowing with it. Until there was no room left inside. Not for the emotion, not for the demon, nor even for himself …

Dean had been looking straight at him. John had watched his eyes widen in shock as he gained control. "Dean!" All the emotion came rushing out in one word. Just one word… how on earth was he supposed to say everything that needed to be said in just _one word_?

Dean was in the window with his palms flat against the cold pane of glass, questions in his eyes…and behind the questions a small ray of light in the darkness.

Had John smiled? He wasn't sure himself. He'd sure wanted to. The demon quickly took over again though and then he was walking away. Cutting through the rain and once again surrounded by darkness. Surrounded by it yes, but no longer saturated by it. A pinprick of light shone through the darkness. An echo of the hope he'd seen within his son's eyes.

Now he was in the motel room again, still in control of his own body and trying to figure out why.

_Don't get too used to it. I like to play with my toys. Remember? _

Oh shut up. You want control? Take it already and get it over with… If you can't then I've got better things to do with the little time I have than listen to you!

It was so cold… he was soaked to the bone and shivering from it. He needed to dry off, warm up…change his clothes. Then maybe… just maybe he could give the boys a hand. He smiled at himself from behind his towel in the mirror.

"You haven't won yet." He may be down and out for the count for the most part… but his boys were still out there alive and kicking… "my boys are gonna kick your ass." And the smile grew.

* * *

Leaning into the window Dean let out a roar when he could no longer see his father beyond the rain. He wanted to scream… wanted to run… wanted to smash through the damned window with his bare fists. He might well have done just that had Sam not suddenly materialized before him. "Dean!" he shouted. "Dean no! Don't do it."

Those soft brown puppy dog eyes… so much like their fathers…full of concern…and fear? Damn! They didn't have time for this argument. God only knew what that thing was doing to him. "It's got him Sam. You saw it. That was _DAD_! We have to go after it… we've got to _help _him!" Didn't Sam get it? They had to go. Now!

"We don't know that Dean. We don't know that really was _him_. We cremated Dad ourselves remember? How the hell could he possibly still be alive?" Sam? The skeptic? Now there was a switch. He was making sense… but it didn't matter. Dean knew what he saw. That man had definitely been his Dad…John Winchester was alive, and he was still fighting with everything he had.

"I can't explain it Sam. I don't know how…It was him damn it. I know it was him!" Tossing his head restlessly from side to side in frustration he tried to find a way to explain. When their eyes had met… there was just no doubt.

"Dean! Dad is dead! We both saw him die." Good God if Sam wasn't his brother he'd have decked him. How could he not recognize their own father?

"Sam! Dean! That's enough! You both had better come and sit down." Missouri came through as the voice of reason. At least for Sam. "We don't have time to sit. Dad needs us." That boy was just plain stubborn. "Boy, you sit down at this table right now. You go running after John now you'll get yourself killed. What good will you be to him then?"

Oh he was so not in the mood for this now. "There's no telling what that thing is doing to him. You expect me to just sit and listen after what we just saw? _You_ know I'm right. You _know_ it was him!" It was a growl. He was shouting out his frustration. Couldn't help it. It was too big for him to hold in anymore.

"Dean Winchester, I'll tell you what I know. I know you're not _shouting_ at me in the middle of my own home." He just glared at her.

"Yes. You're right. That was John. But it was the Demon too and if you want to have any kind of chance at helping your father you're going to have to sit and listen to what I have to say." Still he didn't move. They were staring each other down. Normally he found her intimidating… but his anger had become overwhelming and it wasn't getting through this time.

They had to _do_ _something._

He was so tense, so scared, so angry… so determined. He felt as if he would shatter. Missouri put a steady hand on his shoulder and softened her voice.

"We _are_ doing something Dean. We're planning. Getting you boys ready for what's to come so that when you're faced with it again you'll be prepared and that demon won't stand a chance."

Deans' shoulders and face fell as he deflated. "I just can't stand it. I can't stand knowing that all this time…" It came out a whisper in the quiet that had invaded as the storm outside dissipated. He was staring out the window from where he stood again and now it was anguish and sadness she felt coming off of him in waves. He could still see him there… just beyond the glass.

"All this time he's been alive… alive and fighting Dean. Your father is getting stronger. You saw it… when he said your name. For that brief moment it was John. Not the Demon. Now you have to remember that and come sit down so that when your part comes you'll know what to do to help him. To finish this."

This time he did as she told him to. Dragging his boots across the hardwood flooring as she pulled out a chair for him so he could sit next to Sam.

He'd listen, he'd learn and then he'd go after that thing. Guns blazing, rock salt toting and shouting every last word of Latin his father had ever taught them.

"Okay. I'm listening. What do we need to know?


	9. Chapter 9

_**Chapter Nine**_

The storm was passing but the sky was still dark and gray. What little light there was didn't even begin to brighten the somber scene in Missouri's kitchen.

Dean sat stoically at one end of the small table, back straight and shoulders squared… ready to take the demon head on should it suddenly appear before him. He was trying so hard to hide it, the jumbled mass of conflicting emotion that bubbled beneath the surface… threatening to erupt at a moments notice given the proper trigger. And beneath it all a small ember glowed. A gift given to him by his father: hope.

Sam sat as close to him as the table would allow. He held his head bent forward slightly as if trying to use his shaggy mane of hair to shield from view the worry for Dean his over-expressive eyes couldn't hide. Jaw firmly set, the message was clear to anyone who cared to look. He was not leaving his brothers side. Sam was stepping up to the role he'd always been meant for: protector and guide. Their roles weren't reversing… but becoming clear finally.

'You've done a fine job with these two John." Missouri thought silently, watching them out of the corner of her eye as she made up a fresh pot of coffee. Those two looked like they hadn't slept in days. She knew for a fact that Dean actually hadn't… stubborn as a mule that one. Good thing he had Sam to keep him in line. She'd see to the sleep issue herself before they left.

"Okay then. Let's start at the beginning. Tell me what's happened in the last few days… then I'll tell you what I know and we can fill in the blanks together."

Dean cleared his throat gingerly. He didn't like to talk about work much, at least not with anyone other than Sam.

"Well… ever since the, uh, accident… and Dad…" God it was hard to talk about. "… Sam and I, we've been hunting pretty much non-stop… trying to pick up a sign… anything that'll get us the demon." He paused, gratefully accepting the steaming mug Missouri placed in his hands. Clearing his throat again, he slowly went on. "A couple of days ago Sam and I came across this newspaper article about oxygen tanks exploding in an ER near here…"

Suddenly the coffee didn't look so good anymore as his stomach churned when he thought back to it. "The story was already pretty clearly our type of deal… but then there were the pictures…" He couldn't even begin to describe…

So Sam did it for him. "There were, uh, bodies everywhere… in places and positions that were just impossible… and all sorts of symbols burnt into pretty much everything that would burn."

Missouri looked straight at Dean. "So you thought it was some sort of demon?"

"Something like that… I wasn't sure until we went to get a look at the place. The sulfur smell was a dead giveaway. Then we found…" Dean's voice was two shades deeper than usual. He didn't need to finish what he was going to say.

"Your father's coat?" Missouri tried to make it easier on him. Just thinking about John was hard on the boys.

"Yeah…" Unsteady hands gripped the mug as if it were a lifeline. "Crumpled into a ball in one of the exam rooms. The only place in the entire ER that wasn't covered in blood, guts and gore. It was creepy how clean it was."

"And that's when you realized you might be dealing with the demon again." It wasn't a question. She was reading them loud and clear.

"We weren't able to get much out of the security guys. Just what they heard over the course of the night before the tanks supposedly exploded. Some guy just walks in off the street. He won't talk to anyone, doesn't have any ID. He's completely alone and he's acting really strange. They give him a room thinking it might be serious and give him all the usual tests but the tests all come back normal. So Betty, the nurse, she asks one of the doctors to take a look at the guy… see if he can't figure out what's wrong or maybe get him transferred to the Psych ward The guy finally starts talking… and all hell breaks loose. Literally."

A shadow passed over Sam's face as a terrible thought came to him. "Hey… you don't thing the guy was…? I mean, if Dad's possessed by the demon again… anything's possible… Maybe that's why Betty asked you if you knew the guy."

"Dude, you're talking about the same nutjob that started going on about my 'inner light'." He did _not_ want to think about his father possessed and killing people for fun… or worse as some sort of message meant for Sam and himself.

"Dean Winchester, that woman is not crazy. She was right in more ways than you know…"

Dean had wanted to avoid the whole 'inner light' conversation if he could. It left a bad taste in his mouth and a frown on his face. He got lucky. The conversation was cut short when the phones went off. Sam's, Dean's and Missouri's house line… all of them at the same time. "What the hell…?"

One phone ringing was normal. Two was coincidence, and Dean wasn't normally one to believe in coincidence. Three? Three meant something was up.

Missouri picked up the receiver and was met with the dial tone.

Sam and Dean picked up to the same… and then the received the text messages.

Three sets of coordinates each and four letters tacked on underneath them.

"F-I-N-D? Find? What am I being pranked now? What the hell am I supposed to find?"

"Um, Dean…I think I have the answer to that… C-O-L-T."

And only one set of coordinates matched.

"Well I'll be damned! I don't freaking believe it. Sam, I'm pretty sure these are from Dad… I think he…"

He didn't want to say the words… just in case he was wrong…

If he didn't know any better their Dad was trying to tell them something…

The Colt was missing alright… had been since that day at the hospital.

Here's the thing though… the knockoff was missing too.

* * *

It had been one hell of a risk, exposing Missouri and the boys like that. He'd needed to get their attention though… and get the message to them. Now that he was back in the darkest depths of himself where only thought and feeling were his, doubt was beginning to seep in.

He'd given the demon the Colt… heh heh. He'd given the demon 'a' Colt. Hadn't specified which one. Of course the damned thing hadn't asked either… just assumed that John wouldn't try something so bold with Dean's life on the line. True, he'd been desperate, but John Winchester was not a stupid man. His boys would need to protect themselves. They couldn't do that without the gun.

The prank calling to make all three telephones ring at once had been an attention grabber. He knew Dean well enough to know that it had worked. The coordinates had been his way of saying hello. He was the only one in the world who had ever text messaged them hunt locations. Three coordinates each… the only two matching had been the town where they had come together finally over Constance Welsh's angry spirit.

As for the letters… oh they were a message all right… they were what he wanted the demon to believe. Truth was it didn't need to be found.

Would Missouri recognize the message for what it was? Would the boys know what to do with it if she did? Would they succeed where he had failed? God, he sure as hell hoped so.

_Damn_! He _hated_ not being able to _do anything _but think and feel. Action. He needed action. He needed to kick some supernatural ass…

_You'll be kicking ass alright John… just not the supernatural kind… at least not unless they struggle too hard._

* * *

"Hey Sam… these coordinates look familiar to you?"

"Huh? What do you mean… Is that where I think it is?"

"Yeah… yeah it is." Jericho, California.

Sam was starting to think that there was something to this freak idea of Dean's that their Dad might still be alive.

Of course that brought up all sorts of _other_ interesting questions like who the hell they had cremated and why did he look like their Dad? But that question would have to wait because Dean was running from the kitchen to the garage… He wouldn't just take off after demon on his own would he?

Sam ran after him… he wasn't taking any chances. Dean was not going to go off to try and get himself killed again. Not if he had anything to say about it.

He was worrying for nothing. Chasing the thing down was definitely something Dean wanted to do, but he wasn't about to go after it unprepared. Those coordinates had got him thinking. Right after Jericho they'd had to perform an exorcism on a plane…ugh… just the thought of it made him shudder. The exorcism was what had stuck out in his mind. He had a theory… yeah they needed the Colt… but not to _kill_ the demon. Not if he was right.

Sam caught up with him as he rummaged around in the trunk of the Impala… he needed the Journal… and the book Bobby had given them… and the Colt… and…. "Dean! What are you doing?" Sam. Right. Sam'll love this. The hard part would be convincing him that they had a chance in hell at making it work. He was just sorry he hadn't thought of it sooner.

"Just a sec Sam. I need…" he shifted a couple of rifles and pulled out their Dad's journal, handing it to his brother to hold "…to grab some…" tossing a large machete to the other side of the messy compartment he pulled out a very large book and tucked it under his arm. "…stuff. I've got an idea." Grabbing a couple more, slightly smaller books he turned back to Sam and took the journal from him with a cocky smile..

A duffel bag slung over his shoulder and a big stack of books under his arm he slammed the trunk closed. He was about to head back into the house when he thought twice about it and turned back. Reaching in through the half-open window he fisted his fathers coat. That one was for _him_.

* * *

Missouri was sitting at the table waiting for them, sipping he coffee quietly. There was a package wrapped in brown paper, about the size of a hardcover novel sitting on the table before her.

Dean set his bag of miscellaneous weaponry on one of the chairs and sat down. He'd barely set the books down and he was already rifling through them searching for what he needed. Oh, he'd noticed the package… he just wasn't interested in finding out what was in it. There were more important thing to do at the moment.

"Your father sent it here… from the hospital." Wha…? Okay, first of all: he really hated that freaky mind-reading thing she did to him. It was annoying, like a terrible itch just out of reach that he just couldn't scratch but _really _wanted to. But that was beside the point.

"That's right Dean. Your father sent this here. It's addressed to you." Okay, freaky mind reading crap aside… she had his attention. He was suddenly _very _interested in the mystery package.

"Well, go on. Open it. You'll need it for what you have planned."

It was too heavy to be a book. The paper was coarse even to his roughened hands. The handwriting in bold black ink jumped out at him. Dad. His Dad had written this. The thought made him smile.

Then there was only the sound of paper tearing and crinkling between his fingers as he tore open the wrapping to get to the box beneath it. Pocket knife to make a small slit in the tape that held it closed and then he was pulling open the flaps. The contents may as well have been glowing. "Ha _ha!_ Oh yeah!" He couldn't help the whoop of joy.

Sam, who had been hovering right behind him just stared open mouthed at what he saw but couldn't quite work out. It _looked_ like the Colt…Holy…Mother of….It _was. _

"Sam, I know how to do it. I know how to get this thing once and for all."

If Dean was scary when he was hunting, he was freaking terrifying when he was hunting demon.

* * *

**_Please review! Thanks!_**


	10. Chapter 10

**_Chapter Ten_**

He wasn't sure it would work… nothing was certain when it came to the damn demon… but it was the best idea they'd come up with in a long time.

The exorcism they'd performed on the plane… the first part released the demon from the body… and the second part sent it right back to hell where it came from. Permanently. Now, personally Dean would've liked to kill the thing off once and for all… but this, this was the next best thing. With their fathers life on the line he would take it.

They'd need to use something stronger than what they'd been equipped with on the plane to pull it off. This was no run-of-the-mill demon (if there even was such a thing) This was _the _Demon. The strongest one they'd ever encountered. A little holy water and salt just wouldn't cut it.

Missouri had plenty of useful information for them… most of it disturbing. So far it had stuck to the pattern. Attacking so-called 'gifted' children on their six-month birthdays, killing one or both parents, burning their nurseries and then years later turning them evil… Except that recently it had wavered. Not all the children were turning evil. Sam was a perfect example of that.

Also it had begun to take control of other supernatural entities. The Daevas for one… the reaper from the hospital, and God only knew what else that they didn't know about. Dean, of course, had said nothing to Sam about the pretty Reaper with the bright yellow eyes…but he was positive Missouri knew and that she'd fill him in on it later. Oh well, no help for it. He'd deal with it when the time came.

The Reaper was the worrisome one. The demon had traded Dean's life for someone else's. Probably their father's. That their Dad was still alive… well it screwed up the order of things. The delicate balance of life had been messed with. Reapers had the power to do that, but rarely used it because of the consequences that it entailed.

Now the thing was attacking emergency rooms and killing people randomly without reason. Well, one reason that they could figure. It was trying to draw them out and get them to follow it. Usually they had Sam's visions to guide them through, but he hadn't even had the one since this whole thing had started.

They needed to get a step ahead of it, to figure out its new pattern so they could beat it to the punch line… It would take time to set things up for his little plan to work.

They were going to trick it… into following them into a trap. A devil's trap to be specific. There would be no messing around with mere salt circles this time. Though Dean was planning to use one of those too. Careful just wasn't enough. He needed to be positive that thing wouldn't be able to strike back.

The only way to get damned thing out of their Dad was to use the Colt. It sucked, but it worked so he was going with it. Far better to get a strip torn out of him by his Dad as he was getting patched up at the hospital then to watch him die…or worse.

He and Sam would recite the latin words needed to complete the ritual together and get it out in the open then send it right back where it came from. Everything else they would deal with after…after it was all over.

At Missouri's urging he'd crawled into one of the beds in her guest room to get some sleep. "You'll be no good to anyone if you're dead on your feet Dean. Get your scrawny behind upstairs and get some rest before I haul you up there myself." Well, at least she hadn't threatened to whack him with a spoon…or knock him out with a frying pan.

Maybe it was knowing that his father might be alive, or maybe it was finally having a fighting chance against this thing. Hell, maybe Missouri had done something to the room to dispel negative energy. At this point anything was possible. All Dean knew was relief. For the first time in a long time he saw nothing but the backs of his eyelids when he closed his eyes. He didn't even have the time to be thankful. A couple of deep breaths and he was out like a light.

* * *

Weak sunlight drifted across the kitchen, slowly dispelling the cold that had come with the storm as Missouri's voice filled the space between them. Sam couldn't believe what he was hearing… 

"So, you're telling me that Dean _does_ remember what happened in the hospital while he was dying? Even though he swore to me he doesn't remember a thing." Sam had never doubted Missouri before… but Dean lying to him? It just didn't sound right.

"Oh, I don't think he remembers everything… just bits and pieces so far. The one thing that stood out clearly was that the demon possessed the reaper that had come for him." She could afford to be gentle with Sam, and patient.

"Hold on, it possessed a _reaper_? You're kidding right?" She had to be kidding. If it possessed a reaper then that meant that their Dad had traded his own life for Deans… but from what they'd seen their Dad was still alive so that _couldn't_ be it. Missouri wasn't serious.

"You'd better believe I'm serious Sam. Do I look like the type of person to joke about something like this?" No. no, it couldn't be… and then he looked at her and saw the calm, knowing look. The one that was purely hers. It told him everything he needed to know. Oh God…it was true…

"But if Dean's alive… and Dad's still alive… then who did the reaper take in their place?" That's how it worked. He'd seen it with his own eyes… had it only been months ago?

"I don't know Sam…from the look of things maybe no one at all." In which case they may be faced with far more than an exorcism and saving their father's life… They might have to choose which one of them will die to restore the balance. If they even get the choice. Unless… unless killing the demon is enough to put things right again…

He needed to talk to Dean… needed to dig into some books, call in some favors…They needed to know exactly what their options were with this, and if there were none then they would need to find a way to kill the demon off rather than just exorcise it.

Chair legs scraped loudly on the wood floor as he hastily got up, ready to run upstairs and shake Dean awake… They had work to do and he'd be pissed if Sam let him sleep through it.

"Don't you dare go up there and wake the poor boy up. You know as well as I do that he hasn't slept much in weeks."

"I know, but he'll be mad as hell if he finds out that I started without him…"

"Sam Winchester you let him sleep. That boy is meant to succeed where others have failed… he'll need his strength when the time comes." Wow, she took out that 'don't mess with me boy' tone that she only ever used with Dean. It really wasn't as funny when you were the one it was directed at… wait, what had she just said?

"What do you mean 'succeed where others have failed'" What the heck was that supposed to mean? She was holding something back. "Is there something you haven't told us?"

"I couldn't say it in front of Dean. There's already so much doubt in him, I didn't want to add more. He would never have believed me even if I had. You'll need to know though, if you're to do what you were meant to." Steady, unwavering eyes met uncertain scared ones across the table top. "Dean was meant to kill the demon. To finish what your father started and end it once and for all." Uncertainty became wide-eyed shock.

"Kill it… you mean actually destroy it, not exorcise it? Actually _kill _the damned thing?"

"That's exactly what I mean. Oh, he'll have to exorcise it to weaken it… but in the end when all is said and done Dean will kill this demon."

Now it was Sam's turn to run to the car, to pull out the laptop and a much larger arsenal of books. He'd have to work fast, something told him they didn't have a lot of time left before the action started.

But Missouri wasn't done yet. She still had something to tell him… and she hit him with it as he sat back down to set up the computer. "There's one more thing you need to know Sam and I think it's something you'd already begun to suspect."

Oh great, what now? As if telling him that Dean was going to be putting his freaking life on the line again wasn't enough… now there was _more_?

"It's about your visions, and your role in all this. You're meant to protect him Sam… and guide him so he doesn't steer off the path he was meant to follow."

What? But Dean had always been the one saving _his_ ass, not the other way around.

"That's certainly what it seemed like, wasn't it? Truthfully though you've saved him more times than you could ever imagine, just by being there with him through it all."

A shaggy head finally popped up from behind the computer screen. What had Dean said when he'd come to get him at Stanford? His answer to being told that he could probably find their Dad on his own had been 'Yeah well… I don't want to.'

Good, she had his attention…

"That's right Sam. He needs you. Always has. He's just too darned stubborn to admit it."

She knew she'd achieved her goal when she saw the wheels begin to turn in that magnificent mind of his.

"I'm giving you one hour Sam Winchester, and then you're heading upstairs for some rest too. Research or no, you'll be no good to anyone exhausted. Understood?" Man, he was really starting to hate that 'no nonsense' tone. Was this how Dean felt when she used it on him?

Still, she did put a plate of cookies next to him just within arms reach… and she was actually looking out for both of them. So he answered her with a heartfelt 'yes ma'am' and set to work determined to make the most of the hour he'd been given.

* * *

The nursery was quiet but for the sound of three little bodies breathing softly in sleep. It wasn't his home, he knew that and it made him very sad. The colorful lights above his crib that used to comfort him only reminded him of what was missing. Micheal wanted his mommy back. He missed her soft voice and the way she always made everything alright, and he missed his daddy's smile which had been gone ever since she went away. 

The big people had become quiet and so he was left alone… awake and wanting to cry. He would have too, except that he heard the sound of footsteps in the hall. Maybe that was his daddy, coming to hold him close and give him his bottle. Just thinking about it made him feel better. He started kicking his arms and legs excitedly wanting his daddy to see just how much he wanted to be picked up.

The face that peeked over the side of the crib wasn't the familiar one he'd been expecting. Still, the man looked friendly. Solid and strong… Just looking at him made Micheal feel safe. Thumb in mouth he tried to burrow his face into the man's shoulder. Even the scruffy black and gray beard was softer than it looked. Of course, little Micheal wouldn't have felt as safe had he seen the flash of yellow in the man's eyes. Instead he fell fast asleep, cuddled in his blanket as they went down the stairs and out the front door.

_Time to bring this full circle John…_

_

* * *

****__So guys, I've finished writing this story already and I've got another few chapters left to share... I'd love another review or two just so that I know I'm not posting this for nothing ; ) lol _

**Seriously though, all joking aside: Thanks for reading my fic! I hope you're enjoying the read as much as I enjoyed writing it. **


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

Thump, thwump, thumpity thump… bloodshot hazel eyes popped open suddenly. What the hell was that? Dean had always been a light sleeper, it came with the territory of being a hunter… and a big brother. Didn't matter how exhausted he was or how dreamless a sleep he was in: If there was a sound within hearing distance it was enough to wake him.

The muffled thumping quickly changed to a familiar shuffling sound of big, socked feet dragging tiredly on carpet. Sam… that was definitely Sam coming up the stairs and down the hallway. It was nice to see that Missouri was making _him _hit the sack too. Sounded like the psychic wonder really needed the rest too.

The room was dark as was the hallway beyond it. Dean didn't even need to close his eyes to pretend he was sleeping, just rolled over onto his side when Sam came in the room.

The shuffling sound paused briefly as the younger man took a deep breath and let it out again considering the older brother he knew was pretending to be sleeping. "Damn it Dean, I wish you'd been the one to tell me about the demon and the reaper instead of Missouri. Whatever the hell it is that's going on with you, you're going to have to start trusting me with this stuff again."

Dean didn't dare move. Oh, he was mad as hell… how dare Missouri pick his brain like that and then go behind his back to tell Sam what he'd never wanted to talk about in the first place?

Outweighing the anger was the intense need to avoid this talk at all cost. They both knew what their father had done to save him… to talk it over, to put it into words…Hell, he already knew he was to blame for all this. No amount of talking it over or apologizing would ever make up for the fact that Dean's own weakness had been the cause of their father's current situation.

Better to lay still and keep pretending until Sam fell asleep. Then… then he would get up and tell Missouri exactly what he thought of what she'd done. What was it about that woman that made her think she could just meddle around in people's lives like that?

Sam sighed when the lump on the in front of him bed made no response whatsoever. Dude wasn't fooling anyone. "Alright, _fine_. I'm letting you get away with it this time but only because Missouri is right. We both need the rest to be able to get through this. Don't expect me to go easy on you in the morning. Besides the fact that you're my brother, there is too much at stake here for you to be keeping secrets from me damnit."

Dean didn't answer. Wouldn't have even if he'd wanted to. There had been a lot of this since the hospital. The guilt he carried with him always, the knowledge that he should be dead… that their dad was…well, that it was because of _him_… the unshakable feeling of _wrong _that just wouldn't let go…No matter how well he hid it all Sammy always just _knew_ it was there. His brother had never been any good at leaving well enough alone.

He heard the deep groan of relief and the loud squealing of worn out old mattress springs as Sammy settled in for the night. Turning over he could just barely make out the big lump that was Sam in the bed across the room from him. It wasn't long before the heavy breathing that came with deep sleep filled the room. Dean couldn't help it… he was still so _tired_… before he knew it the soothing sound had lulled him back to sleep.

Missouri for her part stood in the doorway smiling softly to herself. For two men who were so good at taking care of everyone around them including each other, they sure didn't take much time to think about themselves. It was as it should be of course, but tonight… Tonight _she _would be the one watching over _them _for a change.

* * *

Little Sammy was awake, his tiny garbling voice coming through clearly over the baby monitor on the table next to his chair. Too clearly really…it almost sounded as if he was in the room instead of upstairs in his nursery.

He'd had the dream so many times before, and it was always the same. Not once in over twenty years had it changed. Any second now Mary's soft familiar voice would join Sammy's little one asking him if everything was okay… and then would come the scream…

But it never came.

Instead the garbling became louder… and louder.

John opened his eyes hopefully. If he wasn't dreaming… then maybe it had all been some horrible nightmare. Dean would still be just a little tyke running around in cartoon pajamas and Mary would come down the stairs with a tiny Sam in her arms babbling in baby-speak as he tried out his little voice.

Instead of the comfortable old worn chair in the living room of their two-storey Kansas home though there was only a lumpy bed and a dark motel room. Right. It was a dream John, just a dream. Or maybe it was the damned demon messing with his head again…sure would explain the sound of baby that still hadn't gone away.

As disconcerting as the sound was, did the thing actually expect him to believe that it was really Sammy? His son was twenty-four now. No way what he was hearing could possibly be real… right?

Turn your head man, look around. Get your bearings and see with your own eyes what's going on in this room before that thing manages to convince you that you're crazy.

Hating that he hesitated, John was relieved to see that the TV really _was_ on… so that was real at least… Unfortunately so was the little body that lay staring up at him, swaddled in a blanket and surrounded by pillows on the floor. Not Sam. No, that was definitely not Sam… or Dean… he had no idea where this child had come from.

Little Micheal studied the man on the bed carefully. Which one was he this time? This man…he'd had yellow eyes earlier. Before he lay down and all that black smoke stuff had come out of him… then he'd gone to sleep and talked steadily while he did. Something about a Mary, and a Dean... and that somebody called little Sammy was awake again…

The man sounded nice in his sleep. There was something in his voice that reminded Micheal of his Dad before the fire. Something warm and comforting…

Big round eyes far too knowing for such a little person were looking John over with the seriousness of an adult. They seemed to ask a question: Friend or foe? Testing his body to see if he in fact had control of himself John Winchester sure hoped he was a friend right now. Was the evil bastard inside him still? Or had it gone off to wreak havoc and destroy lives without him?

Alright, so you can sit up… that's a good sign. No voice in your head either, _yet_. Okay, mirror… he needed a mirror. No way he was going anywhere _near_ that baby until he was as sure as he could be. "I'll be right back little guy." Dry mouth and sore throat made his voice much deeper and raspier than it should have been. It was his own though, not that nasty evil one that he'd become accustomed to hearing, and it brought a wide toothless grin to the little face as he passed it.

John didn't want to leave the child alone very long, he just wanted to make sure his eyes were the right color. A quick look in the mirror and a splash of cold water on his face and he chuckled softly to himself. "Well, at least I'm _me_… for now." As for the baby in the other room… well it had to belong to someone. He just hoped that the someone was still alive, and not burnt to a crisp somewhere…or worse.

"Well now little man, it's been a long time since I've held someone as small as you…let's see if big old John Winchester remembers how, huh?" Micheal giggled and chattered away, waving tiny arms and legs excitedly. "Maybe we can give _my _boys a call and see if we can't find out where you belong… but first I'm thinking food. I don't know about you but my belly is so hungry it's talking to me." Tiny fingers latched on to one of his large callused ones and squeezed tightly.

"So… what's your name? Can't very well keep calling you 'kiddo' or 'little man' now can I? I'll tell you what… you look like a Michael to me… you mind if I call you Michael 'till we get you back to your family?" The boy cooed loudly and gave him that serious look again. The little guy was trying to figure out how this John character had guessed his name like that.

John was surprised how quickly the boy had taken to him… and how quickly he'd slipped back into the role of taking care of a baby. That tiny little light of hope that he and Dean had sparked within each other grew just a tiny bit more as all the happy memories of his boys when they were small started coming back to him. It helped too that he was now in a position of protecting someone again… gave him the feeling that he was actually _doing_ something.

"Alright then, Michael it is. I don't know how much time I've got… but let's see if we can't get some grub into us before I turn into Mr. Hyde again." …and get you out of here before that demon gets it into his head that it might be fun to hurt a tiny defenseless baby.

* * *

All the magic, all the charms, all the rituals and incantations in the world could not chase away a simple nightmare. Missouri had hoped that by protecting the house from evil and warding off negative forces the boys would be free of the dreams that plagued them. Of course, she should have known better.

Sam's nightmares were the stuff of visions. Unfortunately those dreams were not something anyone or anything could prevent. They were a curse, a tool and a gift all in one convenient package. He, thankfully, was sleeping soundly at the moment.

As for Dean… well, his dreams were a product of inner turmoil, self-inflicted guilt and fear. All things she was powerless against. He wasn't as lucky as Sam was tonight. Missouri had been up to check on them at least a dozen times already. Each and every time he'd been tossing around in his sleep, moaning incoherently. "I wish there was something I could do to bring you peace child. Maybe things don't come as easily to you as I thought." There were only two people who could help that boy now… and they were both fast asleep upstairs in her guest room.

* * *

He woke in a pitch black room to the startling realization that it was night already. Missouri had sent him upstairs sometime just after lunch… he remembered waking up briefly when Sam had come up but it had still been light out then. Sleep had snuck up on him… sleep and the nightmares that came with it lately. Ugh, they'd been as ugly as ever…

Not wanting to hash them over again one thing was clear: he needed a distraction…First things first though, he needed to find a bathroom.

The only one he'd seen so far had been the small powder room just off the kitchen. Well, go with what you know right? Suited his purpose anyway. He was hungry, thirsty and the distraction was down there too. If he remembered correctly there was a TV in the living room…

What time was it? He wondered a little later as he rummaged through the fridge looking for munchies suitable enough for the all night TV fest that was ahead of him. Just past midnight maybe? Letterman and Leno would be on… not exactly earth-shattering entertainment but it would do.

The cold remains of some tasty looking roast chicken on a plate in one hand and a bag of chips in the other Dean felt his way into the living room. No reason to wake anyone up by turning on the lights, right? Unfortunately he forgot that the TV was one of those ancient ones that had dials and didn't come with a remote control. "Aw crap!" Took him darn near ten minutes to find the 'on' switch and when he did… well he was met with the eleven o'clock news. _Wonderful_… it's gonna be a long night. Well at least now I know what time it is…

"Our top story of the evening: an Amber alert has been called in the town of Lawrence Kansas. Six month old Michael Connely disappeared from his crib in what is believed to have been a kidnapping just a few hours ago. This is the second tragedy to befall the Conelly family in as many days. Young mother Georgia perished yesterday as a result of a fire that began in the nursery of their home, also in Lawrence. If anyone has any information about either incident please call…"

"Dean Winchester! Aren't you supposed to be in bed sleeping? And I _know_ you're daddy taught you better than to go helping yourself to the food in other people's cupboards without asking permission first." If it had been humanly possible Dean would have jumped right out of his own skin at the sound of that voice. Missouri stood at the bottom of the stairs in her pajamas and bathrobe with her arms crossed over her chest.

"Well, this night just keeps getting better and better." He muttered to himself darkly before turning to face her. "Look, before you start giving me an earful on how I'm an ungrateful spoiled brat I think you should see this…" but the words hadn't been necessary. She had already known.

"I know honey. That's why I came down here. You were hollering so loud I'm surprised you didn't wake up Sam." But… he hadn't made a sound…

"You don't need to open your mouth to say something Dean. I'm psychic remember?" Right, and so is Sam… though to his knowledge the psychic wonder had never read his mind before.

"You would be surprised young man. That brother of yours takes as much care of you as you do of him."

"Could you just _stop _doing that already? It's freaks me the _hell_ out."

Missouri had pursed her lips and was getting ready to let him have it again when Sam's sleep roughened voice called down from the top of the stairs.

"Hey Dean? Everything okay down there?"

"Yeah" "No" Two completely opposing answers from two completely different voices. What the hell was going on _now_? Sam could see the two of them glaring at each other from where he stood. "Alright, sorry man… but I think I've got to believe Missouri on this one. Those daggers you're shooting at her for the 'no' are kinda contradicting the 'it's all good' your trying to make me beleive."

Oh great. As if it hadn't been enough that _she _was picking at his thoughts without so much as a 'please and thanks' now Sammy was doing it too? "I said everything's fine Sam. Go back to bed." He'd do it too if he knew what was good for him. Dean was in no mood for any kind of touchy-feely type crap right now. Whether it turned out to be an argument or a chick-flic moment

"You're going to have to tell him sometime… or he'll find out in the morning and be upset with you for lying to him."

Yeah, and _that_ was going to be a _fun_ conversation…especially since he was already pissed off that Missouri had been the one to tell him about…

"You are _not _going to put the blame for that on _my _shoulders boy! Do you hear me? Sam needs to know these things, especially now. It is _not _my fault that you are too stubborn to do it yourself."

Oh, he wanted to just reach out and _touch _someone… hard. A lot.

Instead he just walked away. Even as Sam asked where the hell he was going Dean slipped on his fathers coat and went out to the garage looking for the comfort of home: his Impala. He needed to think… If only they knewwhere their dad was…

Dark familiar pain filled him at the thought. His dad… with bright yellow eyes… even awake he couldn't fight off the nightmares. Deep breath dude. In through the nose, out through the mouth…think happy thoughts… _ha _right. Now _that _would be a neat trick wouldn't it?

The smell of aftershave and weaponry coming off the coat was purely John's and it made Dean want to cry. "Oh _Dad_ I'm sorry!" Leaning forearms on the steering wheel before him and letting his head drop down on to them he gave up the fight. The hell with pushing the pain away… bring it on. Maybe he deserved it. He'd failed hadn't he? And for all he knew this second chance they might have, this chance to save their Dad… well he'd failed once. Who knew if he wouldn't a second time. The thought was terrifying.

* * *

**_You like? Don't like? Please review and let me know, thanks:)_**


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

Sam stood, coffee in hand, watching his brother mope in the front seat of his car through the small square window of the door. "I don't know how to fix this Missouri. I don't know what to do for him. What good are psychic powers when I can't even help my own brother?" None of the Winchesters took helplessness well. Sam was no exception.

"He's looking for a way to forgive himself when there's nothing to forgive..." Tapping into Dean's anger wouldn't do much good now. He'd only turn it on himself again. "What's it going to take for him to finally see that none of this was his fault?"

Sam was powerful alright. All Dean needed lay within him… and he was close. So very close to finding that out for himself. They just needed that extra little push. Then it could end…or rather it could begin. Light vs. darkness… good vs. evil… the fight they had spent most of their lives preparing for.

Missouri handed the younger man a second cup of coffee and opened the door to the garage for him. "Go sit with him. You might be surprised what just being there can accomplish." Taking the mug he shot her a doleful look and sighed. Dean had always made this look easy. He'd never mentioned the fear that came with the role, the fear of screwing it up.

"Just trust yourself Sam. When the time comes he'll let you know in his own way and you'll know what to do."

Easy for _her _to say. She had no idea what a stubborn ox Dean could be. Deep breath Sammy, you can do this. He is your brother after all. Ducking into the garage he made his way toward the passenger side of the Impala and got in. "Well, here goes nothing…"

* * *

Dean was almost laying back, staring at the ceiling, hands laying limply in his lap. He didn't budge… didn't even blink as the car rocked and Sam got in. Just kept staring up past the roof of the car.

"I, uh, brought you some caffeine."

He was met with silence.

"I've never known you to turn down a cup of coffee before."

Still nothing. Dean had retreated into himself and was showing no sign of coming out. Apparently he was comfortable there and way too stubborn to come out, even for coffee. Putting his own mug on the dash Sam picked up one of Dean's limp hands and wrapped it around his peace offering. There was a tiny bit of relief when strong callused fingers tightened around the ceramic and his other hand came up to cradle it carefully. It wasn't much but he'd take any sign of life he could get.

"Hey Dean?" he tried again.

"Hm?" Hazel eyes remained firmly rooted to that spot just beyond the roof of the car.

"I, uh, know what you're going through…" probably better than anyone.

"No Sam. No you don't." The hard set to his jaw revealing to Sam the familiar anger coursing through him and still he didn't move.

How could Sam possibly know what it was like? To feel guilty for being alive… to know that their father had willingly given himself over to that damn demon just for him? Hell, he even felt responsible for the reaper at the hospital… She'd been so patient and gentle. There had been kindness there. To know that something good like that had been touched by evil… on his account? There was no way Sam could possibly have the slightest clue what that was like.

"Yeah man, I do. My whole life I've felt the guilt for mom. For Dad's pain… even for yours. Oh, you hid it well but I know how much you miss her and how much it hurts that she's gone. I'd say that comes pretty close to this…"

Dean just shook his head in denial.

"Really? You don't think so? How about Jess then? I _knew_ that one was going to happen… and Dad. God Dean, I was so wrapped in myself at the damned hospital… I never even saw… I _should have known _Dad was planning something. Instead I blamed him for not doing anything. I mean, I'm the one who gave Bobby the list of stuff he'd need to summon the damned thing. I'm the one who gave the stuff to Dad. If we're going to play the blame game you might as well blame _me_ for not realizing he'd try something like making a deal for your life instead of accusing him of wanting to hunt the damned thing down in anger."

"No. _You_ don't get to blame yourself for this." It was a growl.

"Well neither do _you_ damn it. I _know_ it's not my fault, and it's _definitely_ not yours. What the hell do you think you could have done Dean? You were in a coma for God's sake having an out-of-body experience. There was nothing you _could _have done but try to stay alive."

"That's just it Sam. I should have died when I flat lined. If I had just… Dad wouldn't have had the chance to make the damn deal in the first place. But I hung on, fought off the reaper because I thought you both needed me. Instead of helping I made things worse."

"You really think Dad wouldn't have made that deal to get you back if you had died? Come on man, you know better than that. Where do you think you got that stubborn streak? He wouldn't have let death stop him."

Dean hadn't thought of that. Hadn't let himself consider it. Now that Sam had spoken the words and they were there before him… they touched something inside him. Turning hopeful eyes on his younger brother he didn't dare ask the question. _You really think so? _

"Yeah Dean. I _know _so."

Looking at the cup in his hands he mulled the thought around a little.

"You were right. I need you man. I need my big brother."

Whether it was his psychic power or just his mind playing on the 'inner light' thing that the nurse at the hospital had been ranting about Sam didn't know. He could swear that he saw Dean brighten as he sat there. The practically tangible cloud of darkness that had wrapped itself around him lifted and was replaced with a bright familiar glow. That light that had always shone through for him was back, visible in the depths of his brother's eyes. _There you are Dean. Finally! I missed you man._

"I, uh, need to get some clothes on… we've got to go see this Connely guy and see what we can find out about that kid disappearing." Sam smiled knowingly as his brother changed the subject. Good, he really was feeling better.

"What d'you have in mind to get our foot in the door _this_ time?"

"Well, tbere'll be cops swarming all over the place so we'll need something that they won't suspect…" Dean took a sip of coffee and slid a sideways glance at his brother who was eyeing him suspiciously.

"You're not thinking what I think you're thinking…are you?"

As great as it was too see Dean smile like that, the look of pure mischief did nothing to calm Sam's fears.

"What? _You're_ the one who insisted on the suits."

"Yeah and I wouldn't have even bothered if I thought even for one second that you'd find some way to turn them into priest's garb."

"Yeah well. What can I say? I got the _creative_ genes in the family _Father_ Sam."

As much as it made him uncomfortable parading around dressed like priests if it put that grin back on Dean's face he'd do it and gladly… and he'd pretend to grumble the whole way to keep that grin right where it was.


	13. Chapter 13

The Connely place was three and a half blocks away… and Dean insisted on driving there.

"You don't think your big shiny black car might be a tip off that we're not really priests?"

"No, not really."

"And what're you going to say if anyone asks about it Dean? I don't remember any priest to my knowledge ever owning a car like this."

"Well that's easy… a very prominent member of our parish gave her to us. It was a _very_ generous donation and we just _haven't_ had the _heart_ to let her go yet." This coming from a man in the modern day version of a cassock checking out a couple of girls in high heels and mini skirts.

"Right. That's about as believable as _you_ taking a vow of abstinence."

"Hey! Don't even joke about that Sam. It's just _not_ funny." A warning look at his brother, a wink and a smile to the ladies that were now waving as the Impala sped past. Yep. Dean was back alright.

"So uh, Missouri and I were talking earlier…"

Wonderful! Dean just _loved _conversations that started with something that woman said.

"Yeah and it probably had something to do with what a stubborn ass I turned out to be. Am I close?"

"Actually, no. Not even close. You'd be surprised how nice she is to you when you're unconscious or out of the room." Sam was smiling just thinking about it. If Dean only knew she had a soft spot for him. Heh heh.

"Really? _Figures_. All right then, I'll bite. What did you guys talk about?"

Sam took a deep breath. He hadn't even been sure if he should bring it up yet, Dean had only just started acting himself again… There just wasn't enough time to waste waiting to be sure he was ready to hear it.

"Well, it was about the deal Dad made and how we're going to save him from it."

"We've been over this already… we're going to exorcise it remember? Devil's Trap, salt circles, holy water, the colt and a whole heaping load of Latin." Dean was actually getting excited about it. The sooner the Demon was exorcised the sooner they'd get their Dad back. Definitely something he was looking forward to.

"Yeah. About that. It might not be the perfect plan we thought it was." Questioning hazel eyes left the road just long enough to make contact with serious brown ones. "And what exactly is that supposed to mean Sam?"

"How much do you remember about the out-of-body experience you had?"

The way he was pressing his lips together told Sam that his brother remembered more than just the reaper and that he really didn't want to talk about it just yet. Too bad, he was going to have to.

"Look, you don't need to tell me everything if you don't want to… I just need to know: do you remember when the reaper gave you your life back… did it take another one in its place like the last one we went up against?"

Oh _great_. He had a feeling he knew where Sam was going with this.

"I do. I checked before checking out actually. Only three people died while we were there. A kid and a woman… I saw those myself when I was chasing after the reaper… and Dad. I just kinda figured she took him instead of me."

"And Dad's still alive…" Damn him for echoing the thoughts Dean was trying to suppress. "So you're thinking one of us might _have_ to die to set things straight?" Every ounce of his being started screaming one word: _NO! _He couldn't handle loosing their Dad again and he sure as hell wasn't ready to give up his own… and just the thought of Sam… no. Just plain _no_.

"The thought had crossed my mind…"

Nostrils flaring, knuckles turning white Dean used every ounce of control he had just to park the car.

"Are you trying to tell me that even after it's all said and done and that _thing_ gets sent back to hell where it belongs someone's _still _going to die ?"

"Well, the possibility is there… but I was thinking… what if we do one more than just exorcising it? What if we just destroy the damn thing once and for all and be done with it? What if… what if the life that's taken to set it all straight again is the demons?"

Dean just sat there, face contorting as the entire spectrum of emotions ran across his features. The one that won over was skepticism. "I didn't think it was possible to kill a demon. Everything we've looked at in every religion and bit of lore we've researched for this said the same thing. It's impossible to kill the suckers." The best they could possibly hope for was to send the thing back where it came from long enough to not ever see it again in their lifetime.

"Yeah I know. But there's something else that they mostly agree on too. Demons in most religions are said to be fallen angels in some form or another right? Basically, whatever name they were given they started out purely good and then something happened… a choice was made and they were outcast… they became evil."

Dean just arched a brow. Where was Sam going with this? They weren't the religious types… unless of course it involved a little bit of Latin prayer to save their butts in a sticky situation…or dressing up to gain access to a grieving family for information…

"I've only seen Pastor Jim do an exorcism once Dean and you know what stuck out in my mind about it? After it was done he said a prayer for the absolution of sins. Now, it was meant for the person who had been possessed… but what if we were to try absolving the demon? Seems to me the best way to destroy the damn thing would be to turn it into something good again."

Suddenly both eyebrows were up in a look of pure surprise, rather than just the one skeptical one. "So you're saying we take the evil away from it… and the reaper'll be able to take it?" Would that even work?

"I'm saying it's worth a shot… gives us an edge we wouldn't otherwise have. Something extra to work with, to fight with."

"I don't know Sam… exorcisms are one thing but absolutions? I mean, what's next… are we gonna start _baptizing_ stuff too? Dude, I'm not even sure I _believe_ in any of this stuff…"

Parked in the darkness just down the street from the Connely place the Winchester's simply sat, staring at each other and considering the possibilities. Neither was very sure about this new idea of Sam's. Sam opened his mouth quickly as if he was going to say something, paused, and then closed it again without saying a word. Then Dean did the same. Obviously the exorcism wouldn't be enough… but… was _this_ really the answer they were looking for?

The charged silence was broken by the shrill sound of Dean's phone going off in his pocket. It was so unexpected that they both literally jumped at the sound. Dean fought with the buttons of the jacket on his suit just to get to the phone. Two rings… then three… _finally _he had the darned thing in hand and flipped it open.

"Hello?" there was uncertainty in his voice. After the last few days he had no idea what to expect from anything anymore… even a simple phone call.

"Dean? Is that you..?" He was blown away by his father's tired voice.

"Dad…?" Dean didn't trust himself any farther than the one word.

Sam leaned over instinctually, suddenly _very_ alert and in tune with his brother.

"Oh God, Dean. You have no idea how happy I am to hear your voice son. How're you doing? Everything okay with you and Sam?" The concerned voice was very clearly John Winchesters. Was he serious though? Asking if they were okay? How could they possibly be okay knowing what they did?

"Yeah Dad… I mean, we're healthy if that's what you're asking… and we're working on a plan… Where are you?"

John let out a sigh of relief that even Sam could hear. He'd seen Dean in the hospital after the deal had been made…and then at Missouri's but the possibility of the demon breaking his end of the deal was ever present and a very real fear that haunted him constantly. It was good to know for sure, to hear it in Dean's own voice that everything truly was okay. He only wished he had the kind of time he needed to tell him so. As it was John had to get straight to the point of his call… who knew when the damned demon would be back… and there was a baby to worry about now.

"Listen Dean… there's a baby here… I'm not real sure where he came from, but we need to get him out of here _fast_. No telling what the demon might do to him… hell there's no telling what _I _might do to it when the damn thing comes back."

Dean's eyes went wide. A baby… probably Michael Connely… so where was this 'here' then?

"Whoa, hold on… I know about the baby… it's all over the news… but we have no idea where you are right now… and what do you mean 'when the damn thing comes back'? It's inside of you isn't it? It's possessing you."

"I don't have time to explain Dean. I'm sorry. We're at a motel. I think it may be abandoned… somewhere near Lawrence. We're not alone either. There are at least two others… people possessed by demons… I need you to hurry son… before something really bad happens."

"Dad? Dad!?" but it was useless. There was a click and the almost screeching 'beepbeepbeep' that meant the connection was lost. All he could do to keep himself from throwing the phone or hitting something was to let out a steady stream of heartfelt curses. Sam had a hand on his arm shaking him out of it. "Dean? Hey! Dean! What is it? What did Dad _say_?"

"Looks like we got all dressed up for nothing. The Connely kid is with Dad… we need to get back to Missouri's. They're at some kind of motel close to here… he thinks it's abandoned…" The Impala's engine started with a deafening roar. "But Dad's… I mean _the demon_…"

"I know Sam… could be a trap. We'll just have to be ready for it." Actually Dean was kind of hoping it _was_ a trap. It would work to their advantage for what he had in mind.

* * *

John Winchester was a man with a plan. He didn't know if hiding little Michael would work… didn't know if the demon could read his mind or just see what he left wide open like Missouri did. Whatever the case he sure was going to try. He would do whatever he had to for that little boy to stay safe until Dean and Sam could come find him.

Michael was nothing short of an angel… really did remind him of his boys when they were that small. He fell asleep quickly and didn't mind one bit being re-bundled in the soft blue blanket John had found him in. Almost as if the child knew that it was all being done to keep him safe.

With those two thugs by the door there was only one way to go and that was up. John hadn't been able to see anything of the hotel but the one room the few times the demon had left him alone… he didn't need to get out of the room to scope the place out though. This wouldn't be the first time his years in the Marines had gotten him through a hunt. All he'd needed were the eyes in his head, the windows and a mirror.

There was no way to know for sure whether the motel truly was abandoned or whether it's owners had simply been possessed. From the state of the place though… well it was a pretty safe bet on abandonment.

Two dozen rooms were accessed from the main entrance of the building. Twelve on either side, six on the main floor and the other six accessed by a curving staircase that horseshoed its way around the front desk which was dead center. Behind as well as above the front desk area there was what John could only assume had once been meeting space of some sort. _That's_ where he was headed with little Michael as he climbed out the bathroom window and up the fire escape at the back of the building.

Ducking into the first open door he saw after climbing through the window on the second level he was surprised to find the room almost completely devoid of furniture. There was an alcove set into the wall though, hidden by a set of closet doors. Must have been used for storage at some point… now though… now it would be the perfect hiding spot.

With the same tenderness and care he'd used with his own sons at that age he gently tucked Michael in between two pillows in the farthest corner of the closet. Heart beating a steady tempo in his head and chest his only thought was of salt. God, what he wouldn't do for a little salt to protect the kid until Sam and Dean could find him.

There was no time to go looking for it though… there wasn't even enough time for him to rub his big roughened fingertip comfortingly over Michael's tiny closed fist… but John did anyway before getting up and closing the doors so that only a small gap remained open.

He was back in the room standing by the open window, staring out into the darkness a few minutes later when the all too familiar smell of sulphur filled his senses again. "So, the yellow-eyed freak has decided to grace me with its presence again. I was wondering when you'd show your ugly mug again." John grinned a flash of white teeth into the darkness. Time to show this thing where Dean got all that attitude from.

_Aw, how sweet John. You missed me. _The voice was in his head again… condescending in tone. "No, not particularly. You know… I really wasn't sure what to expect out of all this but I'm kind of disappointed." John's tone was conversational and yet somehow he'd managed to strike a condescending note of his own. "I've got to say, for a demon you are _piss poor _company. I've never been so bored in my life just sitting around this room, waiting for you to make up your mind what you're going to do with me." Heh heh, Dean would be proud.

_What's this? The Great John Winchester resorting to distraction? Tsk tsk. I expected more from you of all people. I mean come on, you've been following me around for two decades now… and still you thought I wouldn't notice that the boy is gone?_

"No… no I was pretty positive that would be the first thing you'd notice." Another patented Winchester smile shone in the darkness.

_Well, one way to find out what you did with it isn't there?_

John pushed back the little niggling doubt that he'd be able to keep his secret and spread his arms wide in invitation as the shadow materialized before him. "Go ahead. Take advantage of it while you can… My boys are close… and your hours are numbered."

Whereas before the demon had simply used him as a vessel, this time it took John by force entering his body through every opening he could find. It was angry and apparently it didn't pay to piss the thing off unless you were prepared for a world of hurt to follow.

_Oh, you were right John… they're close all right. Only it's not my hours that are numbered but theirs… and yours… and little Michael's… _John didn't need a mirror to know that his eyes had gone almost an fluorescent yellow. _Your boys are on their way… soon I will show you how absolutely useless that little deal of ours was. We'll make that boy of yours suffer so much you'll wish you had let him die… and Sam… well once I have him I won't need you anymore... will I?_


	14. Chapter 14

Hi all! Okay, so I admit that this particular fic is pretty over the top. At least it is for me. In fact, I almost didn't post it at all in the first place because I wasn't really sure what kind of a reception it would get. I'd love to find out what you all have thought of this so far so please feel free to review and let me know.

Thanks to those of you who have reviewed so far!

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen**

From the moment the Impala pulled into Missouri's driveway the place was a flurry of activity. She'd barely had the time to open the door for them and they were storming up the stairs to the guest room. Dean was pulling off his shirt and pulling out an old worn pair of jeans before Sam even had the chance to close the door. Thirty seconds was all it took and he was storming down the stairs again, bag in hand headed toward the kitchen and the tools he would need.

"Sam! You got a list of those motels yet?" He called out as Missouri watched him put books and things they would need aside, tossing everything else into the bag he'd brought down with him. "Yeah, just waiting on the print-out." There was an edge of worry in his voice that didn't bode well… complications already? Well, couldn't say he hadn't been expecting it.

"He's just surprised at how long the list is." She was standing off to the side holding their father's black serge coat open for him to slip his arms into. "Come on now, put it on."

"I was just going to bring it along… Dad might need it when it's all over." They might need something to keep him warm on the way to the hospital.

"Your father will be just fine. You'll need this far more than he will, believe me." "Missouri…" he hesitated "…I just don't know." He'd set his bag down and had paused mid-move as he assessed the supplies before him. It was one thing to put in on for comfort with his father missing… but to wear it into the fight…?

"Why do you wear that ring Dean? Or that talisman around your neck? For protection. To you this coat is as much a part of your father as the color of his eyes or scruff on his face." True… he inched a little closer to where she stood without even realizing it. "Because of what it means to you, because of what your father means to you this bit of cloth is the most powerful talisman you could ever use."

"Then Sam should wear it." He'd feel a hell of a lot better going into this fight knowing his brother was protected…

"It won't work for him Dean, it doesn't hold the same meaning for him. _You _are _his_ protection and you don't have to worry about him either. He's meant to look out for _you_ on this one."

Deep brown eyes filled with warmth held his as she came closer. He felt that warmth right down to his toes, felt it take hold and spread as she slipped a soft black sleeve over his right arm. Had she done something to it? Put some sort of charm on it while they were over at the Connely's? "Oh, don't be silly child. What you're feeling was always there. You were just too stubborn to see it."

"Might have had something to do with a certain somebody threatening to whack me with a spoon just for thinking stuff…" .

Missouri just smiled at him and straightened the lapels of the coat. "Well I can't very well do that _now _can I? You've got a big night ahead of you, I wouldn't want you to go into it injured." It got her a quiet chuckle.

"Dean… I know what you have planned for tonight. Can't say I like it, but you're right to do it. It's the only way…" Hazel eyes went wide in shock and surprise. Missouri wanted to laugh he looked so much like the little boy John had introduced her to so many years before. In that moment, suddenly turned quite serious, she gave him what he needed to see it through.

"Trust in yourself Dean. Everything will be okay… you'll see to it. You always do."

It was too much. The way she was looking at him… the unwavering faith that was coming off of her in waves washing over him, washing away the doubt that had been second nature to him his whole life. He had to turn away… go back to inventorying the things that were waiting to be packed up for use during the fight.

The Journal, Bobby's book that had the devil's trap diagram in it, the colt, holy water, chalk, salt… Missouri just smiled as she listened to him silently running over the list of necessities and squeezed his arm reassuringly before going up to see to Sam.

* * *

Sam was poring over a stack of papers, as always, a frown of concentration wrinkling his brow and turning the corners of his mouth down as he beat a steady tempo on his leg with the pen in hand.

"Missouri?" he asked, not even looking up. It still amazed her that he could use his powers so easily and not even realize he was doing it. "Yes Sam?"

"You ever hear of the Golden Rule Motel?"

"I have. Closed down a couple of years ago if I recall properly. Do you think that's where he might be?"

Honestly? I have no idea. It's the first one that popped out at me, and I keep coming back to it because there's something… I don't know. I guess _familiar_ about it."

"Like you've seen it before?"

"Maybe… I don't think so though. Only time I've been in Lawrence since Mom died… well you were there. That was after this place closed down."

"You can't place it because you were too little to remember." His voice was deep and hoarse with the memory of it. Dean stood tall in the doorway of the room, the picture of determination, the stance of a warrior clad in armor of black serge and looking like Armageddon itself. Sam had never seen his brother look so dangerous.

"I thought you said last time we were here that Dad never brought us back here after Mom died…"

"He didn't. We stayed at the Golden Rule for a couple of nights after the fire, after we left his buddy Mike's place." That's where they needed to go. Dean had never been more sure of anything in his life. "Let's go Sam. We can park the car at the old garage just down the street. It's time to finish this."

* * *

Two a.m. found them crawling through brush in the darkness, sneaking up on the back of the building that was their destination. The anticipation was a tangible taste in their mouths… this was it. The big one. The showdown their whole lives had been building toward.

It was too quiet. Where on a normal evening there would be crickets chirping, night birds trilling and gentle wind rustling tall grass and brush… on this night there was only the sound of their ragged breathing and the heavy tread of their boots in the dirt.

"So, how do you want to do this?" Sam asked as they lay hidden in the brush, scoping out the rear of the motel.

"Well that depends… your spidey senses telling you anything about where the kid is? Dad wanted us to get it the hell out of there so I think that's the first thing we should do."

Sam shook his head slowly, no nothing so far… but he was starting to think he might need glasses or something. All that time he'd spent staring at the computer screen had left him with a serious headache.

"Did Dad say anything about a room number?" he asked, squinting through the blur his vision had become.

"No. nothing…" Good God Sam was looking pale. Almost as if… "Hey, Sammy… you okay?"

Eyes squeezed tightly shut he fought against the onslaught of pain that came with the first bright flash inside his head. Had that faraway gasp come from him? No way for Sam to know for sure… suddenly all he could see and feel were the walls that were now suddenly on either side of him.

First clear thing that came to him was the muffled, soft sniffling of baby somewhere nearby. He and Dean were slowly, carefully stalking their way down a dark hallway heading toward the sound. An open window at the far end of the hallway behind them where they'd come in and the top of a staircase at the other end ahead of them.

Groaning as he was hit with another sharp wave of light and pain the image wavered and now they were stepping through an open door to the sight of their father flashing bright yellow eyes and holding something soft and blue that was wiggling and fussing in his arms. A clock on the wall… wait, was it even working? It said three thirty… did that mean they still had time? The world tilted around him again and everything went white and then black as the vision loosened its grip on him and finally let go.

"Sam? _Sammy_?" Dean's frantic voice was low and comforting in his ear. Strong hands held him firmly, grounding him back in the present as he sorted through what he'd just seen. "Hey, _come on_. Talk to me man. You okay?"

"Yeah… yeah I am." Of course, he didn't look it. The pale hue of his skin would take awhile to fade and he was still shaky from the pain.

"Was that what I think it was?"

"Yeah Dean. It was"

Great. Just freaking fabulous!

"You've got to be _kidding _me! Now? You're having those freaky visions _now_?" This wasn't good. What if one hit him during the exorcism? God, Sam wouldn't be able to protect himself if something went wrong…

"It's okay Dean… what I saw... it doesn't happen for another hour and a half. Mostly it was us… but I saw the room where we're going to find the damn thing. There's time… we can sneak in and set it all up and go back like it expects us to."

Sam was already trying to get up. They could take the fire escape up and climb in through the window that he'd seen. Was it that one in the middle? The one with the dull white sheer curtains hanging limply on either side…

"Whoa, _hang on_. I know what you're like after these vision things… you're not in any shape to go in there…not yet. Take a second or something." Dean was holding him down with the one hand on his shoulder.

"Dude, you know as well as I do that we don't _have _a second. Not now. I'll be fine. We need to get up there and set up the Trap."

He knew Sam was right… knew they needed to get moving if they'd have a chance in hell at catching the demon off guard… but these visions always left him so weak. Dean was worried about him, in full 'protective big brother' mode.

"You _sure_ about this?"

"Positive."

And still Dean hesitated glancing over at the building where just the one weak light shone through the drawn curtains of a main-level room at the far end of the building. Was that where their father was? Another good look at Sam, who had also noticed the light, and he made up his mind.

"Okay… let's do it then. But you've got to _swear_ to me you'll tell me if you feel another one of these things coming on so I can get you the hell out of there before it hits."

"I promise Dean, I swear. Seriously we need to get in there… we need to do this _now_ while there's still time."

One last look at the looming building, a purse of the lips and he was helping Sam get back on his feet and cautiously starting to make his way toward the fire escape. There was a lot to do… the less time wasted the better.


	15. Chapter 15

**_Just thought I'd say hi to everyone who's reading this so far. Judging by the way the number of hits that keeps climbing steadily I think I can safely assume that somebody is reading this : ) Hope you all are enjoying my fic... I'd love to hear from you and find out what you think so far. _**

**_Thanks for reading... and enjoy the next chapter! _

* * *

**

**Chapter Fifteen**

This time when he woke up there were no familiar sounds… no comforting colorful lights on the ceiling above his crib. This time there wasn't even a crib. Little Michael wanted nothing more than to cry so loudly he could hear himself echoing off the dark walls that surrounded him so closely. He wanted to… but he didn't dare. What if the thing with the yellow eyes came back? Then again… what if the nice man with the scruffy face and the kind smile came instead…where had the guy gone? Why was he alone?

Someone was nearby… he didn't know how he knew, he just did. Knew it even before the sound of the footsteps and scratching reached his little ears. The fear was bigger than his little body could hold. He just wanted to be held and told it would be all right… couldn't help but whimper a little… he just felt so _small _and _alone…_

He missed his Mommy… he missed his Daddy… he missed the nice man who had taken care of him…

* * *

Dean lay carefully on the dusty hardwood floor drawing the outline of a Devil's Trap and trying hard not to smudge the chalk he was using. Sam was standing on a chair scratching the same pattern into the stucco on the ceiling. His dark shaggy hair was peppered with the white flakes that fell as he worked. There would be three of them when they were done. One for each demon they knew of… and if the yellow-eyed freak was the only one that showed its ugly mug… well, the way Dean figured it the damned thing was probably expecting some sort of trick like this… maybe even two… but three? Not a chance. It was bound to stumble into one of them accidentally.

A five pound bag of rock salt sat hidden behind the open door, a hole cut into it ready for use at a moment's notice. They'd also brought along a two litre bottle of holy water for the exorcism. They'd have enough to carry with the journal and their usual arsenal… better to hide the bulky stuff here.

Dean glanced over at his brother for at least the dozenth time, studying him closely.

_First sign of a headache little brother… even just an eye twitch…I swear I will have you out of here so fast…_

Sam looked down at him sharply and suddenly "Dude, knock it off already. I'm _fine_." It was a frustrated whisper. Show of hands in deference to his brother's wishes and Dean bent back to the task at hand. Seconds later they heard the sound, though what it was neither could tell. At least not at first.

* * *

Michael was trying _so hard_ to stay quiet… but he was _scared_. There was no one here to protect him from whatever it was that was making that awful scratching noise… another little whimper escaped his tiny lips. It wouldn't be long now and he'd be crying loudly at the top of his lungs… maybe then someone would come and help him…

* * *

A sound… a tiny sound… something familiar about it that was _way_ out of place in the here and now. Dean turned toward Sam again. He could have sworn he heard a whimper. "I thought you said you were gonna say something if…" But Sam wasn't up on the chair anymore. Apparently he wasn't having another vision after all…at least not that Dean could tell.

No, the Devil's Trap finished he was soundlessly inching his way closer toward the closet at the far end of the room. "You hear that too?" he asked when Dean came to join him by the doors. "Yeah…"

Colt in hand and at the ready Dean nudged the doors open a little farther. He'd fully expected to be thrown back by something he couldn't see like the last time they'd run into the demon. Instead a pair of big, round, innocent eyes peered up at him from a little red face. _Oh my god. It's the kid._

What the hell was a baby doing here of all places?

"Hey Sam, I thought you said you saw Dad and the demon holding the kid."

"I did."

"So… what does this mean?"

"I don't know… maybe… maybe it just means that things are changing."

"Changing?" Dean didn't like the sound of that. Not when the journal, the exorcism ritual and the prayers they'd brought along were back in the Impala… Not when the demon was roaming around this place somewhere inside their Dad.

"Dude, you done with the ceiling?" Sam only nodded. "Okay… help me toss a rug over the one on the floor. We've got to get this kid the hell out of here."

* * *

The face he saw peeking through the doors wasn't the nice scruffy one… it wasn't even the scary yellow-eyed one… the first one was scruffy alright. He looked a lot like the Winchester guy but he wasn't nearly as dark… and his eyes were different too. Michael had never seen green eyes before. He kind of liked them. At least he liked them a whole lot better than yellow ones.

When the shaggy guy followed this new guy in he wanted to start crying again… at least he did until the first guy called him Sam and said something about 'Dad'. Was this the 'little Sammy' he'd been talking about in his sleep?

All Michael knew was that these guys felt safe… safe like his Mommy and Daddy used to feel…safe like the scruffy Winchester guy. Maybe they could help him…

* * *

It felt so surreal. This soft squirming bundle in his arms that smelled so familiar and yet so foreign all at once. There was the scent of baby powder and milk… something Dean assumed all babies smelled like. Not that he would know from experience considering the only baby he'd ever been around for any length of time had been Sam. Still, the scent was strange and oddly comforting in the evil of this place they were in.

There was a sour tinge to the scent too though… something familiar and strong. Unmistakable considering it had surrounded him since Missouri had pulled the serge up and around him. A distinct almost metallic scent of gunpowder and aftershave that was purely their Dad… and it was coming off this kid in waves. There was no way to be positive but he was pretty sure it was their Dad who had hidden Michael in the closet… to protect him maybe…or so he and Sam could find him?

Sam had expected Dean to want _him_ to hold the baby. His brother was by no means child friendly…at least Sam didn't _think _he was. Truth was except for the one or two cases they'd worked in the last year they hadn't been anywhere near any kids so it was impossible to tell. To say that he was shocked when Dean insisted on being the one to carry the kid was understating things…a lot.

"What's our time like Sam?"

It was Dean's effort at distraction as he reached down and picked Michael up.

"It's three. We've got another half hour before…" Dean cut him off before he could finish.

"All right then, let's hit the road and get this kid somewhere safe. Dad and that thing were already in here in that vision of yours. Who knows when the damn thing'll come up here. The sooner we get out of this place the better."

Then Dean did something that shocked Sam even more than the sight of his big brother holding a baby. He handed him the Colt.

"Okay kiddo. Let's try and stay quiet so we can all get out of here in one piece."

Sam smiled. "Cute Dean. Never thought I'd see my big brother whispering to a baby." "Oh, I wasn't talking to the kid Sammy…" Dean deflected the teasing easily. No way he was going to admit how much this small person that had burrowed itself comfortably into his shirt was affecting him. A tiny piece of innocence in the madness their lives had become.

* * *

They were making their way down the fire escape when a loud roar filled the night air making them freeze in their tracks. Even the baby in Dean's arms stilled. What was it about that sound? It was anger. It was fear. It was pain. It was defiance. It was downright unnatural.

Where had it come from? Had they been found out? Was it their Dad? Was he okay? A million and one questions and not one answer. Laying still and trying to stay out of sight they waited to make out the source of the sound. They didn't have to wait long.

The voice that had haunted Dean's dreams for weeks floated brokenly through the charged atmosphere that surrounded them and that place. "…_your boys are on their way… useless deal of ours…you'll wish you had let him die… and Sam… won't need you anymore…" _The sound alone was enough to fill him with dark, blood red rage. The words did nothing to help. Dean was ready to climb through the nearest open window… ready to charge in there and do his worst… ready to take the damn thing on with his bare hands if he had to.

"Dean. Let's _go_. We've barely got a half hour… and we need to get Michael to Missouri's if he's going to be safe through this."

Nostrils flaring, teeth bared Dean all but shook in anger. Knowing Sam was right didn't make turning away from the building and that voice any easier. Soon…God he couldn't _wait _to give that demon exactly what was coming to it. What he didn't know was that he'd get his chance sooner than he thought he would.

* * *

They were halfway to the Impala hidden in the brush with the back of the motel still in sight when it happened.

"Dean?"

One name booming and echoing around him. One name was all it took to shake him. The moment had arrived. There was no stopping it anymore.

"Sam…take the kid. Call Missouri and have her pick him up… it's started already. It's time."

"Dude, you're _nuts_. No _way_ I'm letting you go in there alone."

"I have to Sam. Missouri said that when the time came I'd know." Glancing back they could both see the silhouette standing boldly in the middle of the parking lot behind the motel. "Dean, son… it's okay. You can come out. It's just me."

"Dean… _no._" It was a plea as he had no choice but to accept the small boy handed to him… pure anguish knowing he couldn't change his brother's mind and hope… hope that maybe, just maybe Dean would listen for a change…

"Just _hurry_ Sam. I'm gonna need you in there."

Dean quickly crawled back toward the motel standing up and boldly walking out into the open. "_Dean!_" It was a strangled whisper as he watched the scene unfold.

Their father… but not their father… walking toward his indestructible big brother. Flash of yellow. He could hear their voices but not their words. Didn't have to, Dean was very clearly giving him attitude. Sam wasn't one who scared easily… but this? Dean was alone with the damned Demon without any kind of protection. _Provoking_ the damned thing. He could feel the cold weight of the Colt that was still tucked snugly into his waistband. "Damn it Dean, you've been reckless before… but since when are you freaking _suicidal_?" How the hell was he supposed to protect him waiting for Missouri with the Impala?

He was dialing the number when he heard the scream… that unearthly sound that had come from his father in the cabin when the demon had escaped his body. Sure enough as he looked back again there was a very large cloud-like darkness just hovering above his family… and then surrounding Dean. Sam's heart was in his throat. _Don't touch him… don't you dare touch him… Oh God, Dad don't let that thing touch Dean… _

In the space of time it took to blink the darkness disappeared.

Any relief Sam might have felt was quickly shattered at the sound of Dean's laughter. _That_ was _not _his big brother. _My God Dean, what have you done? _He didn't have a choice anymore. Didn't even wait to watch them go back into the motel. Michael was whimpering into his chest and Missouri was frantic on the other end of the line.

"I've got the Connely baby Missouri… you need to come get him. Dean's inside… the demon's got him."

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	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter Sixteen**

How much time had passed? A minute? Two? Five? Couldn't have been more than five…could it? Didn't really matter did it? Every second that passed felt like an eternity. Every time he thought about it… Dean… the Demon… Dad… _Oh God, Dean_…Too long… Missouri was taking way too damned long…

Then there she was, little red VW racing down the street like something out of the Formula One races. Not soon enough though, not nearly soon enough. She'd barely started rolling down the window and Sam was handing Michael over to her. Every muscle screaming to run back to the motel, every thought…every breath calling for his brother… for their father…

"Sam…" Missouri watched him pull the Colt from the waistband of his jeans behind him. He tried not to hear her… tried to just focus on what lay ahead, on gathering up the few things they'd left in the car that he'd need for this. Things had changed alright. Drastically. If Dean was the one meant to defeat the Demon… what did it mean that the freaking thing was _inside _him now?

"Sam." Damn it! Why hadn't she left yet… there wasn't time for this right now…he had to get back in there. Had to get back to Dean.

_Just hurry Sam. I'm gonna need you in there_.

_Hang on Dean… just hang on. I'm coming…_

"He knows what he's doing Sam. Everything's going to be okay." Okay? _Okay?!_

"Oh _really_? How the _hell _is anything supposed to be _okay?_ That _thing_… I mean, as if it wasn't bad enough it was in our Dad… Dean just _gave himself up_ to that freaking _monster_. God Missouri, you said I was meant to protect him on this one…kind of too late now isn't it?"

"I know it looks hopeless now honey, but this is exactly what Dean had planned…"

"What?" Brown eyes flashed dangerously "you _knew?_ You knew he was going to do this?" Dean Winchester may be the angry belligerent brother but that didn't mean Sam wasn't capable of his fair share… and he turned it all on Missouri.

"Why the _hell _didn't you _say something?_ I could have stopped him…"

"I doubt that. Were you able to stop him when he handed you the baby? You know that brother of yours well enough to know that there was nothing you could've said or done to stop him from doing what he did."

_Oh, I don't know about that… I bet tying him down to the damned car would've done the trick…_

"No, no it wouldn't"

_Okay, maybe she's right… but I could've tried if I'd known…_

"You'd better go…" Things were about to get ugly… really, really ugly.

* * *

He was right to do this… it was the only way… that's what she'd said… wasn't it? _Can't say I like it _her voice echoed in his mind as he crawled away from Sam, back toward the motel… toward their father… toward the Demon. _Yeah…Can't say I like it either… but it's the only way to keep them safe isn't it? _

Blocking out the sound of his brother's strangled whisper he got to his feet, standing tall and proud. Taking the first step at exactly the same moment the men moved toward each other sharing the type of dark, determined look that could only be accomplished by a Winchester.

"You know… I don't know who the hell you think you're fooling because there's no way you're dumb enough to think I could possibly fall for this load of crap."

This time it didn't even bother trying to argue. This time he was expecting the evil smile and the flash of yellow eyes.

"What's the matter _son_? I thought you'd be _happy _to see your daddy again?"

"Oh, I am…You_? Not so much_."

Watching as his father's head shook disappointedly he heard what he'd been waiting for… "I've gotta tell you Dean, that _hurts_. Makes me rethink this little deal I made with John to save your sorry life." It was that voice again… the one from the cabin. Good. That's exactly what he'd wanted.

"Just cut the crap already. You would never have agreed to it unless there was something in it for you. That something sure as hell wasn't my Dad." A steady calm had begun to take hold of him. This was right. He could do this.

"Oh? What makes you think I didn't get _exactly _what I wanted?" The demon sneered.

"Because, you're still after _us_. I wasn't any good to you dead… you _need _me alive. Dad was just a means to an end." Oh, he had it's attention now alright. "You shouldn't have left any survivors in that ER… By the way, did I mention…? You meet the _nicest_ most _interesting_ people in the Psych Wards."

Familiar bushy eyebrows shot up questioningly… so the boy thought he knew the plan did he?

"Y'see, I know what I think you've known all along…" Yellow eyes went wide in shock, mouth opening in surprise. Apparently it hadn't expected him to figure it out… probably hadn't expected him to believe it… he probably wouldn't have either had it not been for Sam… and Missouri. "I know I'm going to be the one to end this. Sure, you want Sam… but you've got to go through _me _to get him and like you said: I've been a pain in your ass since day one. So go on, give me your best shot. This is the only chance you're gonna get. It's over. I'm ending this. Tonight."

"That's what _you _think kid."

Dean fought to keep from showing the relief that came with watching his father fall to his knees and scream as the demon left his body. This wouldn't work if it knew this was what he wanted. All those years of self-control, of hiding his emotions so that only he knew what they were… there had been a reason for all of it.

It floated in the air above them, shapeless and opaque, trying to intimidate and failing miserably. "Well, _I'm impressed._ That's the best you've got? I mean _come on!_ I've seen scarier shit in cheesy horror movies."

_Oh? Not enough for you? Well, let's see what we can do about that now shall we?_

The voice, the one that had lent the extra edge of evil to his father's voice, it was inside his head now as the demon's shapeless form surrounded him.

_Bring it on you freaky bastard. Bring it on. I'm ready. You won't live to see dawn. That's a promise. _

One deep breath and it was inside him, looking out of hazel eyes and taking control. It was the strangest feeling. There was no pain… just a feeling of being split in half. Dean could still feel his body… he was sure he could move it if he tried… but he could feel the darkness inside him too struggling to grab hold. _All right, you've got me. Let's see what you're gonna do with me. My turn to play with you._

Taking a mental step back, Dean let the demon take control. Everything around them turned a bright shade of yellow. Well that was interesting… should he still be able to see what's going on? He watched his Dad get up, watched his dark eyes go wide as he took in the sight of his son… heard himself tell him they were heading back inside. Defeat and fear flashed clearly in the older man's eyes… _It's alright Dad, it's still me. _

The corners of John's mouth just barely curved upwards. Those eyes might have turned yellow, that voice might not be as familiar as it had been a moment ago… but that grin… that grin was all mischief… and purely Dean.

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**_Hi guys! I haven't been getting very many reviews on this one, but I'd sure like to hear from you all. Please review and let me know how you're enjoying my fic. Thanks: )_**


	17. Chapter 17

_**Chapter Seventeen**_

Another dark room, another chair, another rude awakening for John Winchester. This time he was tied down again… and instead of the cushioned armchair in the room he'd been confined to the chair was hard and cold. Some sort of metal? Made sense… would be harder for him to break. The damned demon was nothing if not thorough. Wouldn't do for his toys to run away in the middle of play time, would it?

There was a loud click in the darkness, and a soft whirring sound… and then the music started. Music that had annoyed the hell out of him from the moment Dean had discovered it at the age of ten. Music that recently would have been a relief to hear…except that the only reason it was playing was because Dean was in trouble. Serious, deadly trouble….again.

"Well, as much as I can't stand the kid I've got to give him credit. He's got _excellent _taste in music. Can't say I'm surprised though… your son's about as dark and twisted as they come."

Well _that_ was a great big heaping load of bullshit, and John didn't hesitate to say as much either. Unfortunately, as satisfying as it had been to mouth off at the damned thing as always there were consequences to the action. Never thought he'd see the day either one of his sons took a shot at him… he'd had to remind himself that it wasn't really Dean who had dealt the vicious backhand but the yellow eyed bastard that was currently occupying his body. _Damn it Dean, what the hell were you thinking letting it just take you like that?_ The sour taste of blood in his mouth was almost as stomach churning as the thought of his son at the mercy of that _thing._

"Look at it this way John, at least our little 'time-share' deal isn't something you have to worry about anymore…" Funny, John didn't remember the demon having that much snark… "Say, what do you think it would do to the kid…to wake up like you did and find out he'd killed somebody in cold blood? Probably wreck him from the inside out. I'm thinking I might just take another trip… someplace where there's lots of people… a shopping mall maybe…? A daycare? Never figured Dean Winchester 'warrior and ladies man extraordinaire' to be a kid lover… that little Michael sure touched his cold little heart though. Doesn't matter now though, does it? Not anymore."

Something about the smirk… he'd seen a lot of possessions in his time… there was something different about this one. John just couldn't quite put his finger on what exactly 'it' was.

Then there were those other thoughts that had been hovering around him… was Michael still safe? And where was Sam? He'd blacked out after the demon left his body so there was no way of knowing if his youngest was safe. All this time they had thought Sammy was the one the demon had been after… why did it want Dean now?

"Haven't you wondered? Why it is that I wanted Sam so badly? Why I made our little deal to save your son when it was his brother I've been after all this time? I mean, it doesn't make much sense does it? Except that the only way I could get to _Dean _was to go through his beloved daddy and little brother."

The man tied to the chair said nothing. He was pure defiance. Without saying a word… without moving a muscle the message was clearly conveyed: _screw you_!

"Bet you'd never have guessed that it was your oldest I was after… not little Sammy. You see, Dean… Dean has something his brother doesn't. He is…_was_…the only one in over a hundred years to possess the ability to destroy me. His little brother's amazing power is just a happy little bonus."

Was it possible for a demon to go insane? "What in the _hell _are you talking about?" As far as he knew there was no such thing as destroying a demon… best you could do was send it back to hell… even then it wasn't a guaranteed permanent thing… had he missed something, or was his yellow-eyed tormentor just messing with his head again?

"What your son has, _John_, is an incredible ability. He loves unconditionally, forgives without question and has somehow managed to retain this misguided unwavering faith in his family… even through the twenty-some years of the sheer hell your hunting has put him through. He, as a grown man, had managed to retain what only children are meant to have…That, my friend, is a special gift very few are lucky enough to have. Fat lot of good it'll do him _now_…"

* * *

Questions… so many questions floated through his mind… How much time had gone by since he'd left Sam and Michael outside? Ten maybe? Fifteen? _Come on little brother, hurry the hell up and get your ass over here. I can't do this without you…_

He'd felt every move as if he'd done it himself. Every word as if he'd been the one to speak them. Now, he didn't know a whole hell of a lot about possession… but he didn't think it was supposed to feel like _this_.

Tying his father to that damned chair was _not_ something he enjoyed doing… though he _had _managed to control how tightly the ropes were wound around his wrists, arms and legs. Dean was pretty damned sure the demon had no idea his father would be able to work his way out of them, given a little time. He was also pretty surprised that it hadn't noticed his interference. _Something_ was up… and he sure wasn't complaining about it.

Sitting back in his own body like that was leaving him lots of time to think…to wonder…to consider…to question…to listen…to plan.

He wondered where those two goons their Dad had mentioned had gone off to… though he didn't have to wonder long. As soon as John's unconscious form was tied down the demon walked him down the hall and into another room where there were two more people, also tied down tightly to chairs. The nurse he recognized… Betty from the Psych ward the other day. Interesting… what was she doing here? The man he'd never seen before. "Alright kids… playtime's over. Time for the two of you to take off until it's over."

God it was strange… to feel the words form and roll off his tongue like that and know they didn't come from him…

Twin shadows came streaming out of mouths wide open in horror, forming large opaque clouds looked as if they were evaporating and then just disappeared.

Betty stared at him openly. "_You_!" Relief and fear warred over her pretty features as she tried to digest what it was she saw. The man with the inner light… and those horrid yellow eyes… _"Don't you forget. The light…your light…it'll burn the darkness into nothing…" _Oh great, she'd gone unhinged on him again. Betty said nothing more… but continued to stare, fear replaced with a knowing smile. She never even noticed the blood that was slowly trickling from her nostrils… _Internal injuries? Byproduct of possession? Meg had bled like that too… _

The man next to her was unconscious… arm hanging limply at an odd angle. Well _that one _had broken something. He too had blood coming from strange places… in this case his mouth and ears. Was that what was in store for _him _when Sam finally showed up for the exorcism? He only hoped he'd be okay enough to do what still needed to be done…

They were traveling down that hallway again. He hadn't noticed the first time but the room his Dad was in was the same one he and Sam had prepared… well _that_ was convenient. Though there were a few things in there that hadn't been there before… some pretty nasty looking sharp stuff that he didn't even want to think up a use for… and a tape deck? Okay, _weird much?_

He watched his fingers press the play button and was surprised to hear Iron Butterfly pumping out of the speakers…_In-a-Gadda-da-Vida Baby…_ the tinny sound, product of cheap speakers, was eerie, bouncing off the walls.

Then the demon started talking again.

And his Dad called him on a lie.

Dean hadn't seen the vicious backhand coming or he would have stopped it before it even began… but the freaking demon had moved too quickly.

Then it was talking again…and years of question marks started coming clear in the few moments it took for the demon to wax on about his little plan…

He'd always wondered why all those other kids like Sammy had been only children…or twins. All this time and the damned demon had been after _him_…not Sam.

And this stuff about him being the only one in a hundred years… to be able to destroy the damned thing… God…he wanted it so bad he could _taste_ it…He wanted it so bad he was willing to give believing what the demon was saying about love, forgiveness and faith a shot… not that he was all that impressed at being compared to a child… but maybe there was something to this 'inner light' thing after all…

_Come on Sammy…. I'm ready to end this man… What the hell is taking you so long?!?_

* * *

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	18. Chapter 18

_**Chapter Eighteen**_

Gravel crunched under foot as Sam ran back down the deserted street. It was wrong. Everything was completely and totally wrong. Dad…Dean…this vision he had that was dead wrong in every way. About the only thing that had gone _right_ was the baby…Michael. At least he was out of the equation. Missouri would have him tucked away safely in her home by now where they would wait for it all to be over. God he hoped this would end well. Hunting with Dean…there was just never any doubt that they would get whatever evil thing it was they were hunting. Now doubt was all he had.

He didn't feel the heavy weight of the canvas bag on his shoulder… the muscles in his legs should have been screaming in pain as he pushed himself beyond the limits of his body to get back to that place. They should have, but he didn't feel them either. He was numb.

There was just one thought, one goal, one mission now: help Dean. Oh God, what the hell was waiting for him in there?

With the demon inside Dean there was no plan. It had to be assumed that the damn thing would know everything. Well fine then. The hell with it. Plan B it was. One thing was for sure: if the roles had been reversed and Dean had been the one running in to save Sam…well he'd storm the place head on. Guns blazing, exorcising and taking no prisoners until he was absolutely positive that the ones he loved were safe. "Well, it's always worked for you Dean. I'm damn well going to make it work for me too."

The moment he took his first step onto the property there was a drastic change. Thick dark clouds crowded in on the clear night sky deepening the darkness of this already bleak night. It wasn't just the sky though. The temperature itself dropped a good ten degrees in the space of time it took to walk the dozen or so feet from the road to the front doors. Every breath he took reeked of sulphur.

Bobby's voice echoed in his mind "Something big's coming… and you boys are right smack in the middle of it." Adrenaline that had kept him numb now had him hyper-sensitive of everything around him as he kicked open the doors and stepped into the building. _I'm here Dean. I'm coming._

Instinct alone guided him now, up the stairs and toward the creepy music that had just begun to play… Music he'd heard before in the Impala. Was Dean okay then? Or was the demon just having a little fun? Only one way to find out…and that's exactly what he was going to do.

He took the stairs in twos and threes, all but flying up to the second floor of the building. Dean was there, he could feel it. Dean and their Dad… and… and two other people… were they possessed as well? No way to tell for sure…Didn't matter right now anyway. All that mattered was his family and getting them out alive, in one piece.

* * *

"He's on his way John. Your precious son is on his way to save you, to save his brother. Stupid kid doesn't realize it's already too late."

John just closed his eyes and tilted his head back towards the ceiling, wondering why the hell he was even trying as he worked the ropes around his wrists to free himself. His face throbbed and the inside of his cheek stung uncomfortably as his mind processed everything over and over again.

Sam was on his way…so he was okay…for now anyway. If Sam was okay then it was pretty safe to assume that Michael probably was too. He knew the room they were in, knew it was where he'd left the baby hoping to keep him safe long enough for Dean to get him out of there. There would have been some sort of sound coming from that closet by now…wouldn't there? Dean. Dean wasn't so okay. _Sonofabitch _there had to be a way to _fix _this!

"Can you believe those sons of yours thought that they could lay a Devil's Trap for me? Hid it with a carpet... Foolish, really. As if I wouldn't have expected something like that." John smiled, eyes still closed. Of course his boys would set a trap… they'd probably set more than one hoping to at least misdirect the damn thing's attention long enough with one for it to walk straight into another.

The Demon went on, oblivious to John's smile. Reading Dean's mind was far more interesting than playing with the man before him at the moment. "Pathetic really what they came up with. Just like you, those two. Figures an exorcism wouldn't be enough to satisfy them. Not John Winchester's boys. No, they figure they can do one better."

John's eyes popped open at that. Better? So they'd found a way to destroy the damn thing after all? Not sure he should even dare to hope…eyes slowly focused on the popcorn ceiling above him…which had the _strangest _pattern etched into it… A triangle? No wait…a star? _Hello._ No, not either… a Devil's Trap… two actually. At either end of the room. Well now, _that _was interesting. Question was, did the demon know about them? Time to test the theory.

Still working the ropes around his arms and wrists John slowly edged his way backward toward the closest one. Dean was standing by the window opposite him watching, waiting for Sam to come out of the bushes. Just a little farther… he wanted to be dead center… a little more… just a little…

And then came the loud crash. Sounded like someone had just busted down the front doors to get in. Sam? Couldn't be, that was more Dean's style…still he and Dean were up here. If Sam had seen his brother possessed by the demon earlier…anything was possible at this point.

Dean was headed toward the door and the sound. If Sam was going to have a chance in hell to try whatever it was they had planned he'd need a distraction… and that was something John certainly was in a position to provide. His hands were now free and he grabbed the back of the chair, pushing out with his feet and scraping the chair back loudly against the hardwood floor. Metal screeched against wood as he stood up finally and stepped out of the ropes.

A slow, dangerously evil laugh came out of his first born son. "Oh come on John. Tell me, what exactly did that accomplish? So you're not tied up anymore…what now? Where exactly are you gonna go? What are you going to do?" This time there was no hint of Dean in the smile that spread across his face. "No, _you _'come on'. For _weeks _now you've been in my head, playing with me, playing with my sons and even before that all you were using was your little parlor tricks. I'm ready to see what you've really got."

Footsteps racing up the staircase. Not much time left…

"Come on you yellow eyed freak. You _know _you'd love to make Dean take a piece of me. I saw the satisfaction you got out of making him hit me earlier. Doesn't get much sweeter than that for you does it? So what the hell are you waiting for?"

Then John watched. One step… another….and another until the face that had always been so much like Mary's was inches away from his own. Sideways grin peeking out of a salt and pepper beard, a smug little wink and John was tilting his head back again and the demon inside Dean did the same. "Gotcha"

Sam stepped into the room just in time to hear the word and to see Dean's hands rise toward their father's throat. There was no room for thought. Adrenaline pumping, instinct screaming out his every move he raised hands gripping the most powerful weapon in their arsenal. Finger just barely touching the Colt's trigger he finally spoke the words. "_I wouldn't try it if I were you."_ It came out a strangled angry growl.

John watched yellow eyes blink once… hazel eyes go wide…heard the nearly silent whisper _Sammy, thank god_… then blink yellow once again. _There_ was the advantage. Dean. Dean had been possessed, what? Twenty minutes? Already he was able to take control, if only long enough to blink.

No longer interested in John, the demon swiveled around toward Sam.

"Well isn't this touching? Looks like we have ourselves a Winchester family reunion going on here." Dean's familiar smirk under bright yellow eyes.

"Guess that would make you a party crasher, wouldn't it?"

_You tell him Sammy. _

"I like to think of myself more as...host of the occasion. Oh, wait. I guess in this case you're _brother_ would be the host…wouldn't he?"

John slowly backed out of the Devil's trap, watching as Sam's lip curled up on just the one side exposing teeth tightly clenched together.

"You can call yourself whatever you want. I could care less. Fact is _you're_ the one who's trapped right now… like it or not your time's up."

* * *

It was exactly as they had planned. Exactly as Dean had planned. Now that the demon was trapped and Sam was back Dean wanted control of his body again. Funny thing about that though…it was harder to step up and regain control than it had been to step back and let it go.

The few words he'd managed had been a knee-jerk reaction to the sound of Sam's voice. Seemed the demon was on to him now though.

_What's the matter Dean? Having issues?_

_Me? Issues? Nah. I don't do issues. You though… you've got some serious problems._

Dean watched through a haze of yellow as his father salted the windows and doors, laying out not just one salt circle around the Devil's Trap but three. "Let's see the damned thing get through _that_." He'd said to Sam, wiping salted palms on dirty ragged jeans. _Showtime you evil bastard._

Sam tilted his head toward his father as the man patted his shoulder then turned angry, intense puppy-dog brown eyes on the demon.

"Now get the hell out of my brother."

_This is going to be fun, isn't it Dean?_

"Watcha gonna do Sammy? Shoot your big brother? Somehow I just don't think so."

One look at those eyes, a quick glance at their father beside him and Sam had made up his mind. Fine then. Not like he'd expected the damned demon to just do what it was told.

"Nobody calls me that but Dean." And then he lapsed into latin, reciting words he'd spent the better part of the afternoon memorizing. The exorcism ritual from the journal slipped easily passed determined lips.

He'd expected a howl of rage, of anger…of pain. Nothing prepared him for the near maniacal laughter that came instead. "You exorcise me while I'm standing in this thing and I'll go straight back home boy, and I'll come right back and pick up where I left off."

Sam stopped suddenly and looked to John. A nod of confirmation was all he needed. "He's right son." Alright then. Made sense. Would the absolution work if the demon was still inside Dean? Only one way to find out…without hesitation Sam went from one latin ritual straight into another. "_Dominus noster…te absolve ab omni…"_

But the laughter didn't stop. _What the hell are you laughing at? We've got you. My brother's going to absolve your dark, evil ass and make it so you don't hurt anyone ever again._

_Your brother has no idea what he's doing Dean. You guys have got yourselves a nice little catch 22 here. If he exorcises me I'll be set free to go on as I was. Free to hurt people and continue with my plans. This silly absolution idea of yours can't touch me. As long as I'm in you the only soul he'll be cleansing is yours._

It hit him hard and fast like a blow to the gut. What the nurse had said about his inner light…what the demon had said about forgiveness… It wouldn't be that simple, would it?

Sam stopped cold mid-sentence when Dean looked him straight in the eye. "Sammy…it's not going to work. You can't cleanse the damned thing. Not as long as it's inside me."

This time it wasn't the nasty taunting voice, this time it really and truly was Dean talking.

"What then…what's left?"

"_I _have to be the one to do it." And Dean lost control again.

_Step aside boy. No way you'll ever be able to pull this off. You really think I'll let you do this?_

_Oh, but haven't you heard? I'm the only one in over a hundred years who has what it takes to destroy your ass. Somehow I just don't think you have a say in the matter. _

_Sure I do._

And everything went black.

Sam and John Winchester watched in horror as Dean's eyes rolled back into his head and he fell to a heap on the cold hardwood floor.

* * *

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	19. Chapter 19

_**Chapter Nineteen**_

It was as if someone had flipped a switch and just turned off his body. Everything went black around him…but he could still hear everything that was going on. Sam's voice calling his name as he felt himself fall, their Dad telling him to stay back… no telling what the damned thing had planned next.

The demon was inside him. Laughing, taunting, showing him all his fears… turning him dark inside. Dark and cold again. The hope that had just recently been reborn within him fading fast. Spots swam behind closed lids as he lay reduced to a helpless heap within the Devil's Trap. _It _was inside him. The damned thing had shut his whole body down so fast he'd never seen it coming. How the hell was he supposed to fight it now?

The colt was in Sam's hand just as Dean had planned. How could he possibly have thought that his brother would be able to use it on him? Even if he did, it wouldn't accomplish anything. Well, unless you counted a huge gaping hole in his body and a newly freed demon to be something…which he didn't. The Colt was useless.

Thoughts that weren't his own rushed through his brain making him feel like he was going insane… schizophrenic… because suddenly there were two of him inside. Two voices echoing constantly making him feel like he'd been torn in half.

_It's too late… I've failed… Dad and Sam are gonna die… I can't fight this thing… Can't even move my own body from in here_

He was pretty sure that one was the demon…but all that doubt had him wondering if maybe it really was him… turning in circles within the circles, racing around inside his own head. _Damn it. I've got to suck it up and get this over with… can't let this thing get to me…_

_No…too late…nothing I can do anymore…_

_The HELL there isn't! _

Somehow Dean lifted heavy lids…searching…"Sam…"

Look of shock as his little brother watched him slowly open his eyes…

_Just give it up man… Just lie down and sleep like you've wanted to for so long now. It's no use…_

_Bite me. I'm doing this. You're finished._

"Sammy……" Damn it, he had to move…sit up…_something _to prove to himself he had the upper hand in his own body…

"Dean…God, Dean, are you okay?"

"Yeah… Good, I'm good." He was fighting against himself to put palms flat on the floor and push up.

"You sure… cause from here you're not looking so hot…" Sam wasn't even sure it really was Dean. John though… John knew.

"What's it telling you son?" The damn voice. God, he knew what that voice was capable of. That Dean had even been able to open his eyes was nothing short of a miracle really. If he could tell them anything… anything they could use to see a way out of this… Dean knew. Dean knew exactly what his father was asking…was answering him even as Sam shot them both a confused look. Voice, what voice?

"It's trying to convince me we're screwed." _But I know better don't I? WE know better_.

_Nothing but a scared kid… trying hard to convince yourself you'll get out of this in one piece... to convince yourself that good will always win over evil… You don't fool me boy.. You're scared because in the end you KNOW who'll be the last one standing. _

_Yeah, and it sure as hell won't be you_

"Think Dean… something pissed it off to make you black out like that." John's gruff voice urgently demanding an answer…demanding that Dean stay with him without actually saying the words…grounding him to the here and now…making it possible for him to ignore that freaking voice long enough to _think._

"Sam…" Sammy had started the absolution…

_Yeah, but it won't work will it? Except on your own sorry ass…_

Because he had to be the one to do it himself.

_I was right wasn't I? You don't have a say in this. If you did I wouldn't have been able to open my own eyes…_

"Dean…son, talk to us. What's going on?" There was worry there. A touch of fear in the voice of the indestructible force that was his father.

"It's okay Dad…"

Hands still firmly holding him sitting upright on the dusty floor he fought the darkness that tried to take hold again. "Sammy…" He heard his own voice call out for the one person who could give him what he needed to go on.

Sam rushed forward, ready to go to him. To get him whatever it was he needed. To just be there _damnit_. Seeing Dean like that was killing him.

He just barely made it past the second salt circle when John grabbed his arm, yanking back hard. Cursing his father loudly Sam turned on him.

"He needs me Dad! Needs _us…_"

"You won't be doing any of us any good if you get yourself possessed. This thing…we can fight it and win, even with it inside your brother… but if it gets _you_. Hell, you know what you're capable of Sam… you really want the damned thing to have access to that kind of power?" Didn't matter that he was making sense, Sam was radiating anger. Anger at feeling so _freaking helpless_.

"Sam…" It was a weak whisper behind them. Dean was lowering the rest of himself down to lay on his back. "the cleansing ritual… the absolution…"

"You said it wouldn't work. You said you had to be the one to do it."

"I know… I'm gonna…" Dean squinted tired eyes trying real hard to stay awake. "Start it over Sam, from the top. I…I need the words…"

Flash of pain at the sight of his ever-solid older brother looking so…broken…and then all those years of training and a wave of cold hard determination took over. Missouri had said he'd be the one to protect Dean… he was damned well going to do it.

They stood on either side of Dean, Sam on the right and John on the left, just outside the salt circles laid out on the floor. Sam dousing Dean with holy water as John laid down more salt wherever it looked as if the water would wash it away.

Sam's eyes never left Dean's. 'Stay with me brother' they said. Even in the state he was in Dean couldn't resist answering "…not…going…anywhere Sam…" Fighting to keep control was making him weak. He hadn't expected that. "...I, uh…haven't called…that hot nurse back yet…" The grin he tried came out more of a smirk and it was reflected in the younger man's face but the message hit home. He was going to be okay…they would all be okay. If Dean believed it then Sam did too.

"Ready?" John asked as he finished off the bag of salt

"Yeah" Dean was ready all right

_It won't work… _Too bad the demon wasn't _You can't win this… you were never meant to._

_Oh really? Watch me._

Sam's voice was slow and steady giving Dean the strength he needed as he lay there wet and cold. "Dominus noster…" Never more than five or six words at a time to be sure Dean would be able to keep up with him so they wouldn't have to start from the beginning all over again. "…absolvo ab omni vinculo…" and then instead of repeating the words, they were saying them together. "…Deinde, ego te absolvo…"

_Almost there you evil freak. Kinda quiet all of a sudden…whatsa matter, feeling the burn? This little 'light' of mine giving you a bit of a tan? _

_You ain't seen nothin' yet kid_

"…et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti…Amen." Three voices now with the last few words of the prayer. It wasn't over yet though. Not by a long shot. Dean felt the change inside him… subtle at first, a slight indefinable shift. It took him a second to realize he was standing again peering out through hazy eyes again. Not yellow this time though, really pale grey like some sort of mist…no, this was different. Definitely different.

The voice was laughing inside him…at him now. _What was it you said to me boy? Watch me was it? How 'bout _you_ watch _me_ now, huh? _One foot in front of the other and he was walking through the salt circles as if they weren't even there. Dean didn't need to look up to know that the Devil's Trap was useless now.

"Dean?" It was a question… relief and caution in one breath. _Does he know? Does Sam know this still isn't over?_

It was the cabin all over again, before the car wreck…before their Dad went missing. Only instead of he and Sam pinned to the walls by thin air with their Dad cackling evilly as blood began to spill it was Dean himself laughing as the other two men were shoved roughly backwards. _I don't get it… what the hell happened? Something had changed…he'd felt it alright…Wasn't the damned thing supposed to be over the evil kick by now?_

_Over it? Hell, I'm just getting started._

All Dean could do was watch in horror as they writhed in agony before him. His Dad was yelling something…something he couldn't make out from the sudden buzzing in his ears…and Sam. God, Sam was _bleeding_…they _both _were. He had to stop this. Had to stop it _now_.

_Alright, that's it. No more. I've had enough of this little time share arrangement of ours. You're freaking evicted._

_Oh really? And how do you suppose you're going to accomplish that? _

_I'm not…_

He wasn't sure if it would work…but he was sure going to try…Dean pushed against the force inside of him. Pushed as if he were shoving someone, or something off in a fight. Felt the mist shift around inside of him…felt it squirm around his insides trying hard to hang on to something, to latch onto something it never fully had hold of in the first place. Kept right on pushing until he heard Sammy grunt…heard their father fall heavily to the ground.

He didn't have time to worry about the man lying on the floor, only hoped he wasn't dead. Turning to Sam he nodded. They both knew what needed to be done now. "I don't know how long I can hold it off. You know what you need to do." Dean was calm now. It was all so clear. The reason he'd been allowed to cheat death…not once but twice in the last year. Closing his eyes as Sam grasped the Colt in his hands he whispered the order his brother needed to hear. "Do it Sammy. It's the only way."

Flesh warmed metal an extension of his body Sam felt rather than heard the click of the trigger as he pulled it back. Heard the deafening roar as the final bullet flew toward his brother with a puff of smoke. Watched as Dean stood motionless until the small scrap of metal hit home mid-thigh making his knees buckle and forcing him to the ground for the second time.

The world outside was raging, a storm of near hurricane proportions roaring the demons anger. Trees whipped around like tall grass in the wind, some uprooted completely to come crashing against the side of the building. Through it all one word echoed endlessly in Dean's mind. _NOOOOO!_

_Ha_ha! _Hell yeah! Weren't expecting that one were ya? _

This time when his eyes closed instead of sinking into darkness there was only bright blinding light. He felt no pain, no anger…not even the numbness he'd become accustomed to reverting to in the weeks since the Mac truck and the hospital. Instead there was peace…a sudden quiet in the roiling turmoil that had been inside him for so very long.

The grayish mist lifted as if it were fog… floating up and above his body and just disappearing like so many droplets in the heat of the morning sun. One breath…then another…and another…until there was no more darkness, no more grayishness, no more fog or mist. No more Demon, period.

When he finally opened his eyes again it was to find Sam's face hovering inches above his, brown puppy eyes tearing up at the first hint of hazel cautiously peering out from behind long lashed lids.

"Damn it Dean, you're scaring the hell out of me man."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Get off me dude." He answered, failing miserably at pretending to be moody as he pushed off long fingers along his jaw line feeling out his pulse.

"Uh, no. I don't think so. I just shot you in the damned leg. You're staying right where you are, 'least until the paramedics get here."

Dean shot a worried look over at the lumpy mass by the wall that was their father. "Dad. Is he…" He couldn't finish the question. Had he stopped it in time? Was he still alive?

"Unconscious, but breathing. He's gonna be okay… it's _you _I'm worried about." Sam was ripping off a sleeve of his shirt, wrapping it around Dean's thigh with one hand and dialing 9-1-1 with the other. "I don't know if...maybe it's just me but you're still really pale…and you're loosing a lot of blood…"

"T'sokay Sammy. I'm okay. You've got me." eyes drifting slowly closed. He was just so tired all of a sudden. But that was okay right? It was over. He'd ended it. _They'd _ended it. There was time to sleep now…at least for a little while…

Sam felt a rush of panic as Dean drifted off. Thought for sure he was dying on him. Wanted to laugh when he finally noticed the steady rise and fall of his brother's chest. _You _would_ finally take a damned nap at a time like this, wouldn't you? Scaring the hell out of me as you bleed all over the floor. _

A soft smile played across Dean's lips in sleep as if he'd heard Sam's thoughts.

"You're right Dean." He said quietly as the red and white lights of the ambulances pulling up outside played across the ceiling. "You're gonna be okay. I've got you."

* * *

**_Thanks for reading guys! Please review : )_**


	20. Chapter 20

_Okay...so this is it. Last chapter of my little fic. Just a quick little disclaimer before you read this... the lyrics I used at the begining of this chapter are from Coldplay's song 'Fix You' and do not belong to me in any way...but you guys already knew that : ) _

_Just wanted to take this last opportunity to thank those of you who have reviewed and everyone who has taken the time to read this so far. Hope you all enjoyed the story! And as always: Please review : )_

**_

* * *

__Chapter Twenty_**

_When you try your best but you don't succeed,  
When you get what you want but not what you need,  
When you feel so tired but you can't sleep,  
Stuck in reverse_.

Dean wasn't just sleeping… he was full on dreaming. Every nightmare that had ever plagued him in bright bold detail as if he was actually living them over and over again.

_And the tears come streaming down your face,  
When you lose something you can't replace,  
When you love someone but it goes to waste,  
Could it be worse?  
_

The wails of the ambulance sirens outside the old hotel were baby Sammy's cries as Dean ran out of the burning house when he was four. Countless evil things his father hunted over the years ran through his subconscious as they had when he'd been young. Each and every one ending with his father dying somewhere alone. Then the very real memory of Sammy at Stanford… lying on his back under all those flames… his Jess on the ceiling above him wide-eyed, scared and already beyond help. Their father… with the demon inside of him yellow-eyed and evil trying his damnedest to rip Dean's heart right out of his chest just by looking at him. The hospital… the coma… the out-of-body experience. Sam and the ouija board and trying to convince the reaper to let him live… and then their father… dead.

_Lights will guide you home  
And ignite your bones  
And I will try to fix you..._

"Dean… dude you're gonna have to wake up soon. You've been out for three days now. I get that you haven't slept this much in a while…but you're starting to scare me man." Sam's worried voice cut through the dreams, cut through the darkness like a ray of light. Made him want to open his eyes and tell him it he was okay. Was he okay though? He hadn't seen any reapers yet…somehow though that wasn't as comforting a thought as it should have been.

_Well high up above or down below,  
When you were too in love to let it go  
But if you never try you'll never know  
Just what you're worth._

Oh God… what about Dad? Was he okay? Was that why he hadn't seen or heard from any reapers yet? He'd made that deal… a soul and a gun for a life… _his_ life. Sam had been worried about that. About Dean or their Dad having to pay the reaper with a life once the demon was destroyed. Ah, hell. If Dad was dead he didn't want to know. Would rather just stay comatose… or maybe just die himself so he'd never have to face it. Not now, not again. At least here, stuck in his own head his father was alive. Dean's memories keeping him that way. Safe and sound deep within him.

_Lights will guide you home,  
And ignite your bones  
And I will try to fix you._

"Dean." Gentle, insistent hands shaking him lightly. "Hey, Dean! You've _got_ to wake up." Sammy's voice again… trying his best to get an eye flutter… _anything _that would tell him his brother was pulling out of this… whatever the hell it was. "Dude, don't make me pull out the damned ouija board again!"

_Tears stream down your face,  
When you lose something you cannot replace,  
Tears stream down your face  
And I..._

Missouri had come and gone countless times over the past week. It had been six…or maybe seven days since the big showdown with the demon. Sam wasn't really sure how long it had been really. Somewhere after day three they had started melding together into one long endless night. Their father had been sent home with Missouri at some point in there. It had been a relief to see his eyes open, to know that he was alive. Small consolation when days later Dean was still unconscious. Perfectly fine… healing even… but comatose for reasons that baffled even the professionals. Was this the demons work? Or was Dean just being the same stubborn jerk he'd always been?

Somewhere around day five the tears had started to fall. Great big fat ones that rolled unchecked down his cheeks whenever he was alone with Dean. The tracks of which were quickly wiped away from the prying eyes of nurses, doctors and Missouri alike… out of deference for what Dean would have wanted if he ever decided to open his damned eyes again. "Come on Sammy… no chick flick moments." Dean's voice in Sam's head… maybe if he threatened the Impala. Might be the nudge his brother needed? Hell, right now he'd try anything. Had even tried an exorcism, just in case they hadn't beaten the damned demon after all. He was desperate.

_Tears stream down your face,  
I promise you I will learn from my mistakes,  
Tears stream down your face,  
And I..._

Sam wasn't the only who had been crying. Silent tears fell onto the pillow from behind closed lids often during that week. As if finally in sleep Dean was able to let out all the emotion he'd managed to keep hidden away over the years.

The pretty reaper appeared exactly seven days after the demon had been destroyed.

"Hello Dean."

Dean was wide-eyed and scared. So… guess this meant his dad had lived after all then huh?

"Don't, uh, take this the wrong way…but I was kinda hoping not to run into you. Least not for another six decades or so… you know?"

She smiled slow and serious.

"Seems every time we meet I have an important decision for you to make. This one's a little different than the last time though."

Different? Different how? There was death, or you know…death and haunting. Either way it wasn't much of a choice. Kinda left him feeling robbed, having to go now that they were finally all safe.

Sure, the hunting would go on… it would always go on… but now Sam had a decent shot at normal… and hell, maybe now Dad would lighten up a bit and start living for other things than just hunting. He kind of wanted to see that happen. Be a part of it. Maybe even try a little taste of normal himself and see what might come of it…

"Dean…the choice is yours on this one. Life or death."

"What do you mean? I've been living on borrowed time for months now. Since Roy Le Grange switched my life for someone else's… and then after that since Dad made that deal with the demon. You're here to collect what isn't rightfully mine anymore… Right?"

"No, no I'm not. I'm here because for the last week now you've slowly been letting go. There's nothing wrong with you Dean, nothing except that you've lost the will to live. It's time for you to decide now. Are you going to wake up… go back to your brother or are you going to let go and move on?

_Lights will guide you home,  
And ignite your bones  
And I will try to fix you._

Dean looked the beautiful brunette over like she was crazy or something.

"Well that's a bit of a no-brainer isn't it?"

Somewhere not so far away he could hear Sam talking to him again… and he didn't sound too happy either.

"Seriously Dean... I swear to God! It's been a week. A whole freaking _week_ since you up and passed out on me man. If you don't wake the hell up I'm going out to the parking lot and taking all my frustrations out on your damned car… and then I'm coming back in here and inviting that hot little nurse that's been all goo-goo eyed over you since you got here out on a date. And when I'm done? I'm going to load Missouri and Dad into the wreck I'll have made of the Impala and I'm going to drag them back here again and we're going to play all that 'emo' chick flick music that you hate so much and wax on about how much we love you and miss you… and yeah man, we're gonna _cry_. Oh yeah. That's right big brother. You want to wallow like that dude fine by me… but I'm going to do my damndest to pull you out of it before you freaking kill yourself, you hear me?"

He couldn't possibly be serious?

"How do I do it? How do I wake up? Quick… need to do it before he touches my _car_."

"Just open your eyes Dean. Let go of the hurt, relax and open your eyes."

_Lights will guide you home,  
And ignite your bones  
And I will try to fix you._

It had been a long shot. The threat against his car among others. Nothing else Sam'd said or done over the last seven days had done a damned thing though so he'd grasped at whatever was left.

Still it was a shock to see long dark eyelashes flutter… full dry lips working as Dean tried to speak… and then the hoarse, sandpapery voice that finally cut through the loud hospital silence. "Dude… you freaking touch my car… I _swear_…" It was all he'd managed to croak out before his voice gave out but it was enough.

Enough to make Sam laugh so hard he could barely breathe.

Enough for the nurse to come running in to see what the commotion was about.

Enough to send Dean into a coughing fit that had that nurse sitting next to him on the bed with a glass of water in one hand for him to sip, and the other gently stroking his hair…the thought that Sam had been right… she really was hot…registered as he slowly sipped water from the cup to soothe his sore, dry throat.

As soon as he could speak again Dean cocked an eyebrow at the nurse and gave her his slow, smug smile. "So, uh, is that how this works? I cough and beautiful women come running?"

He couldn't wait to hear her answer… except that she didn't… because she had to go help Sam who had taken laughter to a whole new level, falling over his chair and onto the floor from the force of it. The big freak couldn't get himself back up because he was _still _laughing.

Of course, Dean wasn't complaining… he did get a good look at the nurses…um, assets while she tried to help him up. She caught the direction of his focus on a quick glance over her shoulder and blushed prettily. Squirming a little under Dean's gaze she finally managed to get Sam to his feet… and excused herself before quickly leaving the room. "Aw, _great_. See that Sam? That was a work of art man… and you scared her away." Sam said nothing. Just kept grinning at him, just plain happy to see Dean's open eyes for a change.

* * *

They kept him admitted another twenty four hours. Long enough to get some solid food into him and to be sure there weren't any underlying problems behind his little week-long nap. Also long enough for him to get the hot nurse's phone number. Amanda… Mmm. Blonde, blue eyed bombshell with legs up to there… oh yeah, as soon as that hole in his leg closed up enough for him to walk properly he was going to take her out for a little fun… Winchester style.

"Hey Sam?" They were in the Impala, Sam behind the wheel, driving back to Missouri's. "Yeah?"

"Turn here will ya? We're making a pit stop before heading back. I've got a wicked craving for a cheeseburger and fries… you know _real _food."

The grin Sam had been wearing since Dean woke up the day before grew as the tires squealed and the car swerved sharply just to be able to make the turn into the drive-thru.

* * *

Sunday afternoon they were watching the football game, three Winchester men on Missouri's living room couch yelling at one of the players for fumbling the damned ball. Grunts and groans coming from the springs beneath their heavy frames as they shifted and waved their arms around at the tv. Missouri leaning in the doorway smiling knowingly as she watched them. It was a first for them. A first of many firsts. It warmed her heart to know she'd played a part in it.

"Dean Winchester you get your lazy behind in here this instant!" she called out over the sound of the tv moments later. Another knowing smile gracing her lips as she heard the deep indignant grumble of John's eldest as he slowly got up and shuffled in to see what she wanted from him _this time_. "What?" he asked, eyes still glued to the tv.

She pointed to the bowl of chips and trail mix on the table, three sweaty bottles of beer filling her hands. Turning to her when there was no actual answer voiced he graced her with a sight few people ever got to see. A look of total but pleasant surprise.

This normal stuff was new territory for him… but he was slipping into it pretty easily. Walking over to her he took advantage of the disadvantage she had with her hands so full. Wrapping strong arms around the woman he hugged her close to show his appreciation… and with a mischievous smile whispered the word 'christo' in her ear. "Boy, you are lucky my hands are full or I'd have…" but Dean didn't hear her finish. He was laughing too hard to hear the words and besides, his back was already to her as he limped back towards the living room hiccupping with the laughter, a bowl in each hand. Missouri followed shaking her head and grinning widely from ear to ear.

* * *

It wasn't long before they fell back into old habits. A few days… maybe another week found them pouring over a bunch of newspaper articles at Missouri's kitchen table.

"I don't know…A ghost haunting the library at Stanford? You're joking right? I mean, I spent a good ninety percent of my time there when I was still at school… I would have heard about it. Right?"

"Well what else could it be Sam? Three suspicious deaths over a two week period...and they did just renovate the right wing right? Maybe they woke something up."

So far John hadn't said much of anything. Just watched as Sam typed away at the laptop as he dug up as much history as he could on the building and the school. Taking a deep breath he decided to voice the thought that had come to mind as soon as he'd come across the article in the first place.

"Worst case if it does turn out to be nothing at all, at least you'll be there in time to register for next term."

Both boys heads turned simultaneously. John tried to pretend… really he did. But the look Sam was giving him was just priceless, and Dean… God. His eyes hadn't been saucer-wide like that since he'd been what…? Four?

"Don't look at me like that. If I taught you boys anything it was to finish what you start. Last I heard you had a few years left…"

"But what about you guys? I'm not just taking off again. Not now. Not anymore. What about the job? And all that stuff… about Jess… I mean, I just don't want to face all that again. Hell, I wasn't meant to be a lawyer. I'm a hunter for God's sake."

"Who says you'll be taking off? I'm sure as hell not going anywhere. Dad's right, you should finish what you started at Stanford… but hey, who says we can't hang around there while you do? There's bound to be _something _to hunt around there… and man, those college girls? Yeah. You're gonna have a hard time trying to get me to leave Sammy."

Sam looked shell shocked at just the thought of going back…even just to take care of the ghost. John was pretty sure he knew why too. "Dean, go get my journal from your car. I think I put something in there that might be helpful on this one…" which was Winchester code for 'I need a minute alone with your brother'.

As soon as they heard the click of the door closing John eyes met and held the ones of his youngest son. "Look I know this is about… Jessica. I'm not going to lie to you son, facing what happened and going back there… it's going to be the hardest thing you'll ever do."

"Then why do it Dad? Hasn't there been enough pain? I don't want to go through that again. Relive it like that."

"Because Sam, this law degree is important to you. Always has been. It's something you need to prove to yourself I think… and you won't be happy, not really, until you have it. You need to know that even though you choose this life, the hunting, you can do the normal stuff too. I'm pretty sure that Jess would see it that way too. She'd want you to be happy. Just like your mom would want _us _to be happy."

Sam said nothing more. He took the stairs up to the spare bedroom two at a time swearing softly under his breath the whole way and mumbling something about packing up so they could get an early start in the morning.

* * *

Years later Sam was sitting in a crowded auditorium surrounded by men and women in dark grad robes smiling proudly to himself. Not just because he'd done it. Managed to finish law school… at the top of his class… with honors… but because _they _had done it. The Winchesters had come a long, long way.

Dean had dragged him kicking and screaming to the Registrars office after they'd taken care of the spirit in the library. He'd hated him for it at the time… but in the end it had been the right thing to do.

The hunting hadn't stopped, though there seemed to be less out there now. The dust had settled as if evil had gone underground… hibernating while the Winchesters were afoot. Haha, the thought made him laugh every time.

A few months into his first term their Dad cashed in as much as he could from the phony credit cards of the moment. It wasn't much, but it was enough to buy out an old garage and get it running. Dean helped him fix the place up while Sam was at school and by the time second term started they were living in the apartment above the garage and making steady business.

Wasn't long before Dean started fixing up old cars. Sorry, _classic _cars… said he figured if he was able to work the miracle of bringing his baby back to life after death-by-demon-driven-semi then he could probably make a few bucks doing it for other people. He met his girl that way. She'd been his first customer. Black GTO with a sliver pinstripe down the side beaten to hell by her ex-boyfriend. His older brother always had a thing for the damsels in distress. He fixed up her car… and her ex-boyfriend…nothing yet about rings and white dresses but Sam was pretty sure that glow he'd noticed earlier had something to do with the 'news' his big brother had been hinting about having for them later at the grad barbecue.

There were weekly visits to Harvelle's Roadhouse still… Monthly visits and holidays at Missouri's…Road trips to Bobby's to collect parts for Dad and Dean and of course Sara.

Sara who he'd gone back to see that first summer break because Dean wouldn't leave him alone until he did. Sara who loved the traveling and the adventure of the hunting… Sara who thought Dad was eccentric, and Dean charming… one of a kind she called them and loved them for it instead of in spite of it. Sara who had looked absolutely stunning in white, and even better in the gold band that now never left her ring finger. Ever.

There never would be another woman for their Dad… but he had his boys, his shop, the hunt and that, he was always telling them, was all he needed to be happy. John Winchester happy? Truly happy? He never thought he'd ever see the day. And yet… he was.

So as Sam sat there in the hot, stuffy auditorium… Listening to speech after speech and name after name waiting for his own to be called as he reflected on life… looking back on all the hurt, the pain and the misery they'd suffered… and glancing over at his family… seeing them smiling and _happy_…

It dawned on him that _this_ was what Dean had tried to tell him so many years ago…

That _this _was what it was all about…

In the end it was all that was important

Family

A grin split his face as Dean's voice happily humming drifted from somewhere behind him: Metallica.

You're right man.

_Nothing else matters._

* * *


End file.
